


Grave Robber

by Princess_Bobbypins



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Bobbypins/pseuds/Princess_Bobbypins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seto wanted to take his secrets to the grave, but when a class project lands him and Joey closer than desired, those secrets become harder to protect than ever. Especially when Joey is discovering the common ground they both share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Behave

**Author's Note:**

> This same story is posted on FanFiction.net by the user Band_Aide_Brand who is me. 
> 
> This was my first attempt at writing Seto X Joey, and I think it's turning out pretty well. The story has been on hiatus since (I believe) 2011, but I now intend to finish it! 
> 
> Back then I became obsessed with the idea of creating a new (overused actually) rendition of the bonding of Joey and Seto over their common history with abuse/neglect. Unlike some, however, it was and still is my goal to keep them as realistically in character as possible and will therefore prevent both characters from randomly spouting out affection, memories, and fears towards the other without due process.
> 
> Also, because I could think of no other way to force to two enemies together, I did what many have done before me—the dreaded partner project that haunts every former student to this very day…
> 
> Please enjoy despite my uncreative beginning.

Seto tossed his briefcase aside hard enough that the framed schematic hanging on his office wall shuddered. 

At least it didn’t fall… This time.

After sifting through the files in his hand, Seto dropped them onto the massive stack that was the rest of his unfinished paperwork.

He didn’t have time for this. Why did everyone assume that he had time for all of these…these trivial academic games? He was busy! He had things to do! Why was it that, for the sake of “fairness,” his simple “job” was viewed with the same lack of importance as the after school work of his puny classmates? He wasn’t waiting tables, cleaning aisle three, or taking tickets—he was running a company! He was raising a child for God’s sake!—And not even his own so the responsibility couldn’t be blamed on recklessness.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to set aside time in the morning for the “project”—he just had no time. How much earlier could he rise? Was three thirty in the morning too late? Sacrificing his lunch hour? His lunch hour was spent on his laptop doing whatever he could do away from his office. After school, the teacher had suggested. 

When?

After school he went home, changed out of his uniform, made sure nothing was amiss in the house, waited ten minutes for Mokuba to arrive, nodded to him, left for the office, got a stack of papers at the main desk, listened to his assistant prattle off his missed calls, got into his office and _worked!_ If life was merciful he finished with his office work at six, he went home, he had dinner for a half hour, and went back to work until…

Until?

Eleven? Twelve?

This was pathetic. He had a family to take care of—not a big one, but that didn’t matter. Assign him a paper—it’d be done perfectly in fifteen minutes at most. A math worksheet—five minutes. A science project—an hour at most. 

Such assignments were all on his time. He could stop and return as he pleased. Group work meant going out of his way to fit another person’s life into his own. If he answered the phone, he was scoffed by his partner, answered an e-mail he was reported to have been “unhelpful” to the group members…

Seto took in a deep breath as he dropped into his seat. All of this _inconvenience_ because “the world can’t accept a CEO without a high school diploma” and “in-home, private lessons for university credit” don’t count for high school. Not to mention how “approachable” it made him look to the public if he went to a school like a “normal kid” with everyone else.

At the end of the day, however, Seto admitted to himself that he probably wouldn’t have allowed himself to become so upset if it weren’t for who he’d been “randomly” paired with…

“Mr. Kaiba, Mr. Wheeler is here for your three O’clock appointment.” 

Oh yes, that teacher knew how much he hated that mutt Wheeler. This was intentional. _Personal!_

Seto regretted correcting the teacher’s last mistake, but what good was it to be “taught” by a man who made mistakes in basic—

“Hey, Kaiba, sorry it took so long for me to get here. There was this long line of traffic—”

“Don’t waste any more of my time with your lame excuses, Wheeler,” Seto growled. “We now only have _twenty_ minutes before I have a meeting, so tell me that you already have something planned in that empty container you call a head—or is that asking too much?” Seto raised a well-kept brow and allowed his eyes to narrow. Joey glared back, but Seto gave the dog credit for biting back his temper more than usual.

Smart move. If the mutt had started an argument, Seto wouldn’t have held back. Waiting around for his unwanted partner for ten minutes (the same amount of time it would take for him to do the project on his own if he’d been allowed) was not his ideal way to start the afternoon. Especially not when he could be at home changing out of his uniform and making sure his little brother made it home safe… To be truly honest, Seto had only been waiting for about four minutes for Joey. (But he wasn’t going let Wheeler know that.)

Joey, gritting his teeth behind forcedly sealed lips, let out a heavy sigh as he attempted to rein in his temper.

“Yeah, actually. I came up with a few ideas.”

“Them just say them already,” Seto commanded, watching Joey’s narrowed eyes.

“It’s not the most creative idea, but—”

“Don’t you know anything?” Seto criticized. “You _never_ start a sales pitch with a negative statement. Why don’t you just drop out since you can’t even master the basics of sales?”

“Gee, I didn’t know I was tryin’ta sell ya somethin’!” Joey spat. 

“Get on with it, Wheeler. I don’t have all day.”

“Quit interrupting me every time I try to—”

“Mr. Kaiba, your appointment for three thirty is here. He says it’s urgent that he see you now.” 

The secretary was smart, Joey thought. She came in wearing a cute little outfit, said what needed to be said in a professional voice, turned around and walked out, closing the door slowly behind her. She didn’t wait to hear what “Mr. Kaiba” had to say. It was almost like she was the one calling the shots.

“We’ll finish with this tomorrow,” Seto said, eyeing his paperwork before he looked at Joey. “Have my assistant pencil you in for an appointment, and don’t be late this time. You can go.” 

“You can’t just make me leave!” Joey spat vehemently. “We’ve only got a week to work on—”

“I’ll get to it tomorrow—bring more ideas next time. Now _go.”_ Leaving the office and making a point to slam the door behind him, Joey fumed.

“Mr. Kaiba has an hour free between five thirty and six thirty tomorrow morning—”

“That’s not gonna work,” Joey hissed, not able to make eye contact with the woman behind the front desk. He at least had the ability to control his anger and not take it out on innocent bystanders. It wasn’t _his_ idea to get paired with Seto Kaiba and he wasn’t any happier about it than the CEO. (Or the girls in the class who practically started crying when Kaiba wasn’t paired with them.) But at least he didn’t try to start a fight right off the bat.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the only available—”

“Six o’clock,” Seto spat, stepping out of his office and past the desk as he traveled from one room towards an office that had blinds drawn over its windows. The woman didn’t fumble or even appear ruffled. She flipped through a legal pad on her desk and then shook her head.

“We could attempt move the appointment with Industrial Illusions, but I don’t know if they’ll—”

“The _other_ six o’clock.” Seto slammed the door to the boardroom and the woman’s shoulders lowered slightly, but only for a moment.

“Six p.m. then,” she stated, her hardening eyes locking with Joey’s. It was a look that left him puzzled long into the night.

What was so bad about six o’clock? 

It probably made her stay over, Joey decided. Kaiba was a jerk; he wouldn’t even let the poor woman go home on time. She probably had kids or something… Joey found himself feeling almost guilty for not accepting the five thirty slot.

Almost.

( ) ( ) ( )

Seto made a point to arrive home in time for dinner. He’d left in the morning before Mokuba had even gotten up, didn’t get the chance to see him after his classes had ended, and hadn’t even gotten the chance to call him for a two minute chat to make sure he was still alive and that the world wasn’t going to collapse around them because of extenuating circumstances. He had to make it home for dinner because, tomorrow night, he wouldn’t be there and losing time with Mokuba always felt so wrong.


	2. Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba is actually a little nice in this chapter--if you squint a bit.

Joey made the point to arrive early, but was simultaneously regretting it and was contented with it. The only thing that caused him to be uneasy was the cold glances that Kaiba’s assistant, the woman behind the desk, kept passing him and the raised voices coming from the covered boardroom.

“Is there a reason you keep glarin’ at me or is your face stuck that way?” Joey boomed when he could control himself no more. The woman’s face pulled into a pinched expression and she produced a glare that rivaled her boss’s.

“Though it is unprofessional for me to say so, _sir,”_ she spat, leaning over her desk like a monster from a nightmare. “I find you to be a very selfish, insensitive man.” 

Joey blinked through his intense glare. Insensitive? Where did she derive that from? He’d managed to keep himself from knocking Kaiba on his face when the snob kept harassing him the previous day. 

“Though it is inconvenient for you to drag yourself out of bed at five in the morning, I’d say it’s worse that Mr. Kaiba won’t be able to—”

“That’s enough.” 

The woman’s face turned scarlet and she immediately reclined back into her seat. Joey turned his head towards the boardroom’s door where Kaiba stood, dressed in white business suit—the one that oddly resembled the colours of the businessman’s favorite Duel Monster. Joey scoffed at him. 

“Wheeler, get in my office.” Kaiba barely offered the blonde a glance as he passed through the small lobby towards another room around a corner. After he’d disappeared, Joey stood and watched as three well-dressed men shuffled out of the boardroom and towards the elevator. 

They didn’t even mumble to one another. Not even as the elevator doors closed.

The meeting must not have gone too well.

Kaiba’s assistant remained flushed and introverted, staring at her hands which were folded in her lap. The phone on her desk rang and she answered it just as Joey had gone into her harsh-voiced boss’s office.

He barely had time to set his notebook down on Kaiba’s messy desk before the man stormed in dramatically and ill-temperedly. Joey stiffened as if he’d been caught doing something wrong, only to find himself gritting his teeth in rage as his notebook was swept up venomously and regarded with hard eyes.

Then tossed back into Joey’s fumbling hands. 

“Good, you’ve learned how to get a proposal looked at. Next time, have it open to the page you’ve written on so I don’t get fed up flipping through page after page of your first period doodles.” Kaiba dropped into his seat and crossed his legs. He leaned forward onto his desk and rested his head atop his laced fingers. “Not bad. I’m impressed.” Joey didn’t know what to make of the bombarding comments tossed at him in various pitches and tones, so he settled for just scowling.

“Quit tryin’ta lecture me, rich boy.” 

Kaiba’s lip twitched with either amusement or displeasure—Joey couldn’t tell.

“Fine. Let’s get down to business. Your idea works— _barely_ —so I’ll come up with a few things to improve it.” Joey tried to get a word in, but Kaiba talked over him. “After that, we can split the work in half, I’ll do my part, you do yours. Then I’ll check over your _attempts,_ and finally we’ll put it together and decide on the small things. Sound fair?” 

Joey stammered a few times and then spit out a response.

“No! That’s just so you can do all the work and say I didn’t help! I know where this is goin’. You think I was born yesterday?!” 

Kaiba snorted and withdrew his hands onto his lap, reclining in his chair.

“Not quite. I’ll do most of the work, but just to secure myself a high grade. It would do me no good to say you didn’t take part.” Joey’s eye twitched slightly and Kaiba’s lips curled into a smirk and then an abrupt scowl. “The teacher would fail us both and the whole point of _me_ doing the work is so that we _don’t_ fail.” Joey attempted to speak, but Kaiba talked over him once again.

( ) ( ) ( )

By the hour’s end, Kaiba had already drafted a basic outline of topics to be discussed. At least he _called_ it a basic outline. It was practically a report. He’d printed off two copies, assigned Joey the first half of the work and claimed the last half for himself—the part which involved the most attention. 

He chased Joey out of his office barely thirty seconds before the clock struck seven. Before Joey even managed to close the door, the phone began to ring in several different tones and bells.

As he passed the assistant, who was scowling at him once again, he could no longer hold his tongue.

“What?!” He shouted. “You get paid to work over don’t you? So why do you keep looking at me like that!?” 

The woman recoiled, but not in surprise, more like disgust. 

“Work over? My shift doesn’t end until nine, Mr. Wheeler. But if you’re wondering why I’m aggravated it’s because you’re so selfish that you couldn’t get up early and because of that Mr. Kaiba won’t be able to make it home for dinner!” 

Joey looked at her with a scrunched face. 

What was so important about being home for dinner? There had to be a break room somewhere with a microwave. Kaiba could just throw in a TV dinner and eat at the desk. 

It wasn’t until he stepped through the front door of his own house that he realized the connection. 

Home.

Family.

For Kaiba, that meant Mokuba. For Kaiba, that meant the world.


	3. Excuses

Seto rubbed at his face with his hands in an attempt to keep his eyes from closing and staying that way, and because he was generally frustrated. It was eleven at night, Mokuba was asleep, and he’d just finally gotten home. Whenever he had a meeting with I2 there was too much work to be done to expect any rest. As much as he hated to admit it, even if Wheeler had agreed to the morning meeting, he still wouldn’t have been able to make it home for dinner.

It was just easier on himself to tell Mokuba that he wasn’t coming home because he had schoolwork he needed to complete there instead of using the classic “sorry, kid, I have work tonight” excuse. At least he’d thought that it would have been easier; Mokuba was getting older, and when boys got older they challenged everything they heard.

“If it was Joey, why didn’t you let him come here? You can eat and work at the same time—that’s what _I_ do.” He’d spouted some stuff over the phone in response to that, pathetic excuses, but when it came right down to it, he and Mokuba both knew that there was still more work to be done. Work that couldn’t be done anywhere except for the office.

Seto sighed in frustration and started up the laptop on his desk. 

Invite Joey into his house? Why would he do something like _that,_ even if Mokuba requested it? He’d get paw prints all over the furniture…

There was another question in the back of Seto’s mind as well, a less comfortable one. If he hated that mutt so much, why did he waste his breath teaching him little business tips that probably wouldn’t help the punk in whatever lowlife career path he chose? 

He hadn’t been thinking, and he couldn’t help himself—he saw something uneducated and he wanted to teach it. Even if it was just a filthy mongrel like Joey Wheeler.

Whatever it had been—correcting Wheeler’s foolish mistakes—generosity or a bad habit, Seto reassured himself that he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. If the dog wanted to start business propositions on a negative foot, so be it.

Seto felt a shudder run through his body despite his efforts to stifle it as he breezed through his computer’s security precautions to access the last tendrils of his life’s work.

What idiot didn’t know how to start a proposal? Even before Gozaburo’s teachings, he’d known to speak positively about every idea and leave the product’s weaknesses in the dark. 

His body shuddered again and he rolled back his shoulders as if the tremor was nothing more than a stiff muscle. In sympathy of the mock-wound, Seto’s left hand went to the portion of his neck where it attached to the shoulder and massaged gently. Subconsciously, he let his hand fall back to the desk, but only after running his hand from the back of his shoulder, forward until caressing the fabric that covered the side his throat. 

There were scars there, buried under the fabric Seto remembered, but he barely recalled them at the worst of times so having their presence return to his mind that night was an unwelcome surprise. It was essential to keep such scars hidden; the media did not need more dirt in which to dig, but hiding them wasn’t hard. Most of the shirts he owned were work shirts—that is to say, they all buttoned up to the middle of his throat and required a tie. When they didn’t, he had trench coats with raised collars. If he didn’t think that even the collar of the coat would suffice and he didn’t feel like wearing a tie, there was always a high-necked sweater to be found. These clothes had been deemed his “style.” 

When, at first, he’d had to consciously pick these outfits (with Gozaburo’s guiding hand all the while), every shirt he saw had him pondering. “Is the neck too low? Will they see? Do they know already?” Now, he’d been ordering shirts similar in style for over six years and he didn’t have to think about hiding scars. The types of shirts he’d once been restricted to buying he now bought because he’d become accustomed to seeing himself in them and could imagine himself in nothing else.

Still…sometimes, whenever he felt that work was piling up, not getting done properly, or if he was just stressed in general, he could feel the constriction of a different collar than that of his shirt on his windpipe.

It was just Gozaburo’s way to torture him from beyond the grave, wasn’t it?

Seto began typing heavily, trying to keep his mind focused only on the work he was completing and how quickly and efficiently he was completing it.

Aside from the dog collar, another thought kept resurfacing in his mind.

That dog Wheeler. 

When he first saw and spoke to that scrap of a human being, all he could think of was how ignorant the mutt was to the ways of the world.

In Gozaburo’s terms, all ignorant creatures were dogs. Seto was a dog. Mokuba was a dog. Joey Wheeler was a dog.

Dogs wore collars. Joey should be the one wearing—

If Seto had been drinking, he was sure he would have spat out his beverage in joint horror and surprise.

Ignorant humans were humans.

Wheeler was a human.

Humans. Don’t. Wear. Collars…


	4. Deep Down

The corners of the room, the hallways, the rooms at the end of the hall, and even the outside pathway was teeming with them—whispers from the girls about how the shit was about to hit the fan. It all started because one girl, close to Joey Wheeler, confessed to another girl that Joey and Seto Kaiba (that’s right, Joey’s arch rival) were sitting together in an unused—though not unpopulated—spare classroom working on a project together during the lunch hour.

The members of the class in which the project had been assigned had choked on their gasps when the two were partnered, but to hear that they were actually _working_ together was enough to make everyone feel faint.

It was to be expected of Seto Kaiba, as one girl stated to her group of friends in the hallway. He was a professional, he was used to dealing with people he didn’t like. But it was still surprising that he even made an effort when it was obvious the Joey Wheeler would just slack off and make them both fail.

Around campus, girls cooed, guys shrugged, and Seto and Joey worked on a project indifferent to it all.

“It’s decent,” Kaiba said, scanning over the presentation Joey had uploaded on the laptop. “I can fix up a few things and add my part over the next couple of days.” After saying only those few words, he closed the project and turned to Joey with chilled eyes.

“That’s it?” Joey asked, brow raised in surprise. “What, no lectures this time?”

“I’m through wasting my time.”

“Oh, is that so?” Joey asked, raising his voice and glaring. Kaiba didn’t reply to him, but turned his laptop more to himself and began entering codes into the various applications on his desktop. Joey didn’t look at the keys as the other boy typed, he knew better, but he couldn’t help but be enraged and in awe at the same time as he watched the young CEO work.

His focus was unbreakable, even when Joey waved his hand over his eyes. There were graphs up, documents up, and, by the time Joey gave up and walked off, Kaiba had answered over fifteen e-mails from several inboxes without faltering or pausing to think about what to say.

Joey wandered through the halls for the remaining time before the lunch period reached its conclusion. He was not thinking in depth about anything or worrying about anything that Kaiba had said or had refrained from saying. (It did dawn on him for a moment that Moneybags didn’t call him a mutt or a dog during their last encounter, but he didn’t pay the fact much mind. Kaiba had been in a hurry to get back to work.)

“Joey! Joey, wait a moment!” Joey stopped before entering his next period classroom. A girl he recognized from passing, though he’d never really spoken to her before, was running towards him, holding out a folded piece of paper in her hands. “Kaiba asked me to bring this to you!” She was out of breath by the time the paper made its way into Joey’s hand.

“Ooo, Joey’s getting letters from his secret admirer!” It was Tristan, pushing past Joey and slipping into the classroom. The girl flushed and then darted away after saying a short word of farewell. 

“Shut up, man,” Joey hissed. He opened the letter and looked it over. He was lucky enough to finish it before Tristan ripped it out of his hand.

“‘Five o’clock, the mansion, tomorrow.’ Well that’s real polite.” He handed the note back to Joey who crumpled it in his fist.

“I hate this guy,” Joey grumbled. “He never meets anywhere convenient for me. Always at his office and now at his house.”

“Well, duh,” Tristan chided. “He’s forcing you into his schedule. He’s got work to do.”

“At his house? Now he’s just tryin’ta rub his money in my face. ‘Meet at my house’ why I oughta…” 

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey could have smashed something he was so angry. ‘Five o’Clock, the mansion, tomorrow,’ well, it was five, he was at the mansion and there was no Kaiba! There was _a_ Kaiba, but not the one that he needed at the moment.

“Like I said, Joey, I’m sorry. He got held up at work again,” Mokuba said, guiding Joey through the entrance hall, down a corridor, and into a modern-looking sitting room. There was a computer desk in the far corner with a panel of windows behind it and a TV hanging on the wall with a long black couch sitting perpendicular to it. “When he gets home he’ll come here first.” Joey sat down on the couch and stared at the wall. “Want me to wait with you?”

“No, that’s fine. Go do your homework or something. I’m not letting that brother of yours blame me if you don’t get stuff done.”

“My work’s already done for the day. I _always_ get it done before Seto comes home.” Mokuba remained standing in the doorway and Joey stared at the wall intensely. 

Somewhere, a clock was ticking loudly. 

At five thirty, Kaiba finally made his arrival, storming into that modern sitting room, clipping Mokuba’s shoulder in a way that surprised Joey, and then tossing his briefcase down onto the computer desk.

“Seto, I had the kitchen staff set another place at the table for Joey.” Mokuba didn’t wait for his brother’s words of reprimand. He slid out the door and disappeared while Kaiba still loomed over his desk with his teeth gritted and bared. 

“I’m taking it that _someone_ had a bad day,” Joey mumbled under his breath. He was aware that Kaiba would catch the words, but not conscious to how violently the man would react to them.

“I am in no mood!” Kaiba shouted, turning to Joey and scowling darkly. His blue eyes, usually frigid, were now burning with rage and hate.

“Whoa,” Joey commented, tossing his hands up in surrender. “Relax.”

“I don’t have _time_ to relax! I have just enough time to finish the work I have with you and then I have to get on a plane and leave for a board meeting that was supposed to be two weeks from now!” Joey wanted to shout back, to tell the rich boy to direct his rage at someone else, but refrained. “And then maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be home tomorrow night so I can get my share of this worthless project done!” Kaiba’s chest heaved with his heavy breaths and Joey merely watched in silence as the breaths slowed and the flames in his eyes died down. “Did you finish anything?” He asked, suddenly calm and composed.

“Yeah,” Joey said with a slight stammer. It was creepy how fast Kaiba got his temper under control. He stood up from the couch and walked over to Kaiba’s desk warily. “I sent it to your e-mail like you said.” 

Kaiba grunted in response and turned on his computer.

“It’s obvious that Mokuba is expecting me at dinner, so I guess we’re going to have to compile this as quickly as possible before he calls us to eat.” The computer booted and Kaiba once again surprised Joey with the nearly elegant, though speedy, way he entered in all of the codes for his system’s security. “As I said before, after I’m finished I have to leave.” Kaiba paused for a moment and turned his eyes towards Joey suddenly. “You can’t stay here after I’ve left.” 

“Didn’t plan on it, rich boy!” Joey snapped, his self-control dwindling. 

“Good.” Finally, Kaiba accessed his e-mail and began to combine Joey’s work with his own, leaving Joey feeling out-of-place and more than slightly embarrassed. The quality of the work that Kaiba had done was by far superior to Joey’s, even though the former had had less time to work than the latter. As to feeling out-of-place, once Kaiba started working, he zoned out completely. He didn’t ask Joey for confirmation of the decision he made, he just executed them, moving pieces of information around, redecorating and reformatting as he saw fit. 

Joey wondered why he had appeared in person at all.

Seto wondered why he’d even had Joey show up at all. He knew beforehand that he didn’t need to see the irritating blonde dog to get the work done. All he needed was the file. He didn’t need Joey Wheeler staring at him stupidly and breathing down his neck while he had to work, and he didn’t need Joey there to prevent him from yelling at Mokuba. (It wasn’t that he enjoyed scolding the child, but when he told Mokuba he didn’t have time to eat, he meant that he _didn’t have time._ ) It was impossible to get anything done properly with Joey there judging his every move…and he’d known that all along. 

So why had he requested that the mutt show up?

“There, we’re finished with that part,” Seto said, leaning back in his chair and nodding at the computer screen. “I’ll get the rest of it done when I get back from the meeting tomorrow night. If you have anything else you want thrown in, send it to me before seven tomorrow morning.” He began shutting down the computer before Joey could even comment or make a suggestion. 

Why had he asked the mutt to come here? Why? 

He wanted to know why! It was throwing his whole evening off. He had a business report to make out and a letter to send to the school depicting, for the thousandth time, _why_ he couldn’t make it to class and why the meeting trumped his education. (These letters were merely a legal formality by now. It was obvious to the world that he didn’t need the high school education. He already had degrees.) He had all of these things to do and more, yet he’d asked for the blonde to show up?

_Why?_

“You okay?” Joey asked, snapping Seto out of his trance. The businessman felt flustered, but it didn’t show. Ever since he was a child, he’d feel shame whenever he was caught while in a daze. Even before Gozaburo, even before his father had died…maybe since birth…The only difference was that, now, thanks to Gozaburo, he was capable of hiding that shame and embarrassment. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Seto snapped, crossing his arms and his legs while leaning back in his office chair. 

Maybe that was the reason he’d had the dog come to its master—he loved seeing how inferior it was to him, loved leaving it speechless.

But if the mongrel was speechless, why was it talking?

“Well, you seem kind of stressed and…I dunno, _tired.”_

“Tired?” Seto echoed dumbly. After the word was out, he couldn’t retract it. Therefore, he had to run with it. “You don’t know the first thing about being tired.” It made him even angrier when Joey just shrugged as a response.

“You should _speak_ when you’re spoken to.” That ignited Joey’s fuse which left Seto feeling satisfied. 

He wanted his dog to speak, and it would speak for its master.

“Maybe I don’t know what it feels like to be tired, but it doesn’t mean I can’t sympathize, you jerk! I was tryin’ta be nice!” 

Seto smirked and Joey was still left fuming when Mokuba entered the room cautiously. 

Joey _did_ know what it felt like to be tired, maybe not _as_ tired as Kaiba was, but tired enough. But he bit back his rage as best he could—Kaiba was tired, and Kaiba was stressed. The least Joey could do was try to be cooperative.

( ) ( ) ( )

When Joey got home, the first thing he did was punch the wall. It hurt his hand like hell, but he was mad enough that he didn’t care. How many times had Kaiba called him some variation of the word “dog” during that meal? What the hell was wrong with that guy? Joey had tried as hard as he could to keep from yelling at him—telling himself over and over that Kaiba was stressed, Kaiba was tired, Kaiba was feeling overwhelmed—but damn it, that was no excuse to turn into a straight-up _bully!_

Joey bet that—that Kaiba even picked on _Mokuba_ when no one else was around! That’s probably why no one ever saw the kid duel unless he really had to. Because he always had his brother’s voice in his head cutting him down!

After an hour of fuming and storming around his cramped, messy bedroom, Joey sank onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His rage dissipated, allowing clear thought, and small clouds of memory from health class exploded in his brain.

Every health class had some sort of section on bullying and psychology—usually before sex-ed and after nutrition. According to them, no one becomes bully because they want to—they just feel the need to belittle others because they lack confidence themselves.

Joey could see that in Kaiba. Yeah. It was obvious. Kaiba wanted to be intimidating and mean to others so no one would dare pick on him because he was…adopted? No, that wasn’t right. Kaiba didn’t seem like the type to care about that kind of thing. He was adopted, yeah, because he _wanted_ to be, and by being adopted he became a multi-millionaire. That was nothing to feel ashamed about.

So that couldn’t be it. 

So what was it? There _was_ something. Joey could taste the lack of confidence on the air in Kaiba’s mansion, and it wasn’t from Mokuba either.

Joey sat up and sighed heavily. Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe it was just the stress the man was under or his exhaustion.

But wait…

Suddenly, it burst in Joey’s brain.

It was so obvious. Why did Seto Kaiba feel the need to intimidate anyone he found that was weaker than himself? Because it had been done to him. And, by who? Gozaburo Kaiba. Why had Gozaburo tormented his adopted heir? Well, probably for two reasons.

He _wanted_ to make Seto into an intimidating, cruel businessman, and because _he_ was probably tormented by his father…and his father was terrorized by his father, and his father before him by his father—it was an endless chain of intimidation for the greater good.

Well, when he thought about it that way, it made Joey kind of sad. Kaiba probably didn’t even notice that he was doing it or how hurtful he was being. (Well, his comments weren’t exactly hurtful, they were just irritating.) And, if he _did_ know, he probably didn’t know why. He was acting subconsciously.

And if that wasn’t the truth? Joey pondered for a moment. If Kaiba knew how mean he was being, and did it on purpose, and knew why he was doing it…then he was doing it for revenge. In order to bring the same sort of hurt and ill-feelings onto someone else that had been pressed onto him.

Would that not mean that, deep down, Seto Kaiba was nothing more than a wounded kid?

Joey heard the front door slam and turned his head towards his bedroom door. The television switched on—he could hear the sudden voices—but the sound didn’t drown out his father’s angry mumbling.

Nothing more than a wounded kid with father issues…

Not unlike himself…

“You here, boy?!” Joey’s father called from the living room.

“Yeah!” Joey called back. “You need somethin’?”

“Nah! Just making sure.” Apparently, his dad was in a good mood that night and Joey sighed in relief. He didn’t have to hear any yelling—for at least a little while.

Kaiba…

Who knew he was so deep.


	5. Nice

Seto stood in the shower, hot water cascading over him while he forced his mind to relax the way his body had. The meeting had gone well, he’d gotten his work done for the day perfectly—he’d have more to do tomorrow, but until then he had nothing to worry over. However, it was hard to get his mind to relax. Not only were his thoughts not used to slowing, it was hard to keep them from wandering where he didn’t want them to go when they were free. 

Whenever he’d start to think over all of the work he’d finished, his thoughts would end on his and Joey’s project. 

That was unacceptable because, when he thought of the project, he thought of Joey. He didn’t want Joey in his head. Whenever he was…

Seto’s breath caught in his throat when he realized where his hand had lowered to.

God, he was repulsed with himself. But it was too late now…The only thing he could do was succumb, erase the need from his mind, and make sure every last bit of the evidence was washed down the drain. 

He couldn’t very well have the servants find it. Maybe some employers didn’t care if the cleaning staff found the evidence of their boss’s lust, but Seto Kaiba did. He had an image to upkeep, even around them. As far as he was concerned, it was best that they thought he was the only man who never masturbated. That was one more thing that put him above everyone else.

Put him above that dog, that _mutt._ Dogs are always humping their masters’ legs—what would make Wheeler any different? Ha! He was probably one of those boys whose first priority in the morning was jacking off, then once again before bed—probably even fitting three more times in between morning and night.

He wouldn’t have to do that if he would just go to his master for help. His master would… 

His master would…

Seto reached his climax, but made no noise louder than the rush of the shower’s water. He had an image to upkeep…that way no one saw what a disgusting, mangy mutt he was himself. 

Maybe that was why the stupid blonde dog—stupid blonde _male_ dog—was always bounding around in his mind at the most critical _and_ pointless of times, causing him to desecrate his self-image and nauseate himself. 

Gozaburo had always said his step son was nothing more than a mongrel that had learned to walk upright somehow. Dogs don’t lust after humans—not when there’s another mutt walking around at least. Dogs want to hump other dogs and only when there isn’t one around they settle for their master’s leg.

Seto could have been one of those businessmen with a woman attached to his arm at all times, but women weren’t dogs—not even the bitches and sluts. No…What Seto wanted was another dog, not arm candy that he could get pregnant and have slander him the day he refuses to buy her a designer gown.

Seto wanted his mutt. But his mutt didn’t see him as a master.

With a sigh, Seto turned off the shower and listened to the water as it dripped from him and from the walls. 

Probably for the thousandth time, Seto Kaiba wanted something he could never have.

( ) ( ) ( )

They’d had the weekend off to work on their project, but in class on Monday the teacher said it was an “in-class work day.” For most groups that was cause for a sigh of relief. For Kaiba, apparently, it was cause for a sigh of indifference. 

Joey moved to a desk closer to the tired-looking businessman who had immediately started up his laptop and watched as he entered in all of the necessary codes.

“It’s finished,” Kaiba said, opening the file and turning the computer to face Joey. “I fixed up some of your things, but it was nothing major. I left some mistakes so everyone knows you helped.” Joey gritted his teeth and growled. “All that’s left to do now is decide who says what when we present.”

“I’ll read my part and you’ll read your part,” Joey spat. “Simple as that!”

“Fine,” Kaiba replied dryly, turning the screen back to himself just as the teacher walked up behind them. “I think I have time tonight to rehearse this with you before we present tomorrow. But if we really want to be proficient about this, you should stay the night at my house so we can practice during the few breaks I have in my schedule.”

Joey thought he was about to choke on his tongue. What a manipulative gesture. The last thing Joey wanted to do was stay the night in Kaiba’s mansion so the rich boy could rub his money in his face—but with the teacher hovering, he had no choice but to accept or else it really _would_ look like Kaiba had done all of the work.

“Whatever,” Joey muttered. “Not like my dad’s gonna care too much if I’m gone.”

“Oh,” Kaiba sneered. “Do I need to have Mommy and Daddy arrange a play date?” Joey snarled and the teacher slapped him on the shoulder as he walked by. Of course, it was _always_ his fault—never the instigator, always the one defending himself.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey had slunk into the mansion like a beaten dog after Seto had finished dinner. He had been planning to yell at the disobedient hound for neglecting his master’s command—to arrive before dinner—but the pup’s wounded nature made him bite his tongue.

Seto surprised himself. He even kept his voice friendly and avoided making any snide remarks.

“This way,” Seto said, nudging a servant aside. “I’ll show you the room where you can put your things.” He looked Joey in the eyes—because he looked everyone in the eye when he talked to him—and saw a cloud of apathy mixed with a heavy streak of pain in them. He didn’t look long enough to allow the mutt to know he was, in fact, _looking,_ and turned to lead the dog upstairs. “There’s a bathroom attached to your room so you won’t have to go searching for one and I think there’re paper cups so you won’t need to go hunting for a glass of water.

Joey’s brain was turning into a pretzel. Kaiba was actually being semi-nice. His tone was indifferent, but he didn’t say anything cruel and he had yet to say anything comparing Joey to a certain four-legged creature. Some greater force must really like him, Joey decided, if it was willing to alter Kaiba’s character and make him be nearly friendly. Joey was especially thankful since he’d just participated in, and lost, a particularly lengthy—albeit pointless—shouting match.

“Did you eat?” Seto asked.

“What?” Joey questioned, obviously in a daze as he tossed his filthy-looking bag of clothes onto one of the three chairs in the large guestroom. 

“Did you eat? Have you eaten?” Seto glared at him slightly. No matter who it was, employee, step father, younger brother, or ignorant, abused dog, he hated repeating himself.

“Oh,” Joey answered. “No.”

“I’ll have my staff bring you something. I have work I need to get done before I can help with our project, but I shouldn’t be long.” 

Joey just stared at him dumbly and Seto didn’t know what to do. It would have helped if the dog had replied, but he didn’t feel like scolding it.

He didn’t feel like praising it either, so he refrained from patting its shoulder before walking out of the room and retreating to his office.

Joey watched him leave, feeling like the apocalypse was about to occur. Not because he’d left his house practically without his father’s solid permission, but because—though it was very hard to fathom—Seto Kaiba was being nice…to him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter jumps back and forth from what Kaiba thinks to what Joey is thinking. Just remember, when Seto Kaiba is referred to as Kaiba, it’s Joey thinking and when he is referred to as Seto, it’s Kaiba thinking.

It seemed like an eternity after the maid servant brought Joey his dinner (a remarkable treat that immediately lifted Joey’s mood as soon as he realized that it smelled as good as it looked and tasted just as spectacular as it smelled) at Kaiba’s command that the CEO finally reappeared. 

Joey had had time to finish the exquisitely-presented “leftovers,” made small talk to the maid servant who came to reclaim the dishes, and then wandered around the room he’d been put into. It was pretty nice, like a ritzy hotel. There were two chairs, a couch, several tables and stands, a dresser, a closet, a large bed, a bookshelf, and a writing desk with its own chair and lamp…

Just as Joey had decided to leave the room and wander the hallway instead of just the guestroom, Kaiba finally made his appearance. He’d shed his white and mauve duster and the gesture, which Joey would have typically overlooked, left the blonde feeling a bit confused. First, Seto Kaiba had been nice to him, and now he’d become impersonal enough to shed off his custom-made, one-of-a-kind, trademark coat in his presence. 

Without that signature coat on, or one exceedingly similar to it, Kaiba just seemed smaller. His shoulders were narrower without the coat’s flair, and he looked so much weaker, so much frailer, without the billowing coattails. When he was just dressed in the black turtleneck and pants, he looked like anybody. He looked so ordinary that Joey was almost surprised. Sure, Kaiba looked like everyone else when he wore his school uniform, but that was because he was _required_ to. Here, in his own home, free to flaunt his riches and his achievements, he decided to strip himself of that distinguishing garment.

Why? Because the house and all of the things in it were symbolic enough of his wealth and success? No. That wasn’t it at all. For Seto Kaiba, that wouldn’t be enough. Seto Kaiba always behaved as if he needed to prove something to someone—as if someone doubted his power. The house and all of its belongings, the company, the employees, and the servants were all tools to express that success and wealth. His coats were tools. Why did he need so many devices? 

Joey had a pretty good idea about _that,_ even if he couldn’t figure out what Kaiba meant by stripping himself of that coat—did he just take it off because he’d grown tired of wearing it all day? or was he trying to communicate something else?

Perhaps the reason why Kaiba needed big houses, companies, employees, and custom-made duster-coats was because the only person he had trouble proving himself to was himself.

“I printed out what we need. My eyes could use a break from the screen.” Joey could hardly believe it. Seto Kaiba had just admitted a weakness—not a massive or important one, but it was one enough. First he was nice, then he stripped himself of his self-assuring coat, now admitting that his eyes were _tired?_ What was he trying to do?!

Seto looked at Joey slightly puzzled. He was being stared at as if he’d walked in without any pants on and then took off his shirt. The puppy’s eyes went from slightly confused to nearly horrified in a matter of seconds.

Mentally, Seto scanned every possibility that could have caused the pet to act in such a way. The first cause was easy to identify—he’d been too nice to the pup when he’d first arrived. But how could he not? He’d looked as if he’d just been beaten—you don’t beat something that’s already injured.

But why had he gotten even more…flabbergasted. 

“What’s your problem, Wheeler?” Seto spat when he couldn’t come up with an answer. That took the dumbstruck look off of the dog’s face. “We have work to do. I want to get to bed before midnight so I don’t end up—what is your _problem?”_

He did it again! Seto Kaiba was obviously trying to break some sort of barrier between them. It all made sense. His eyes were fatigued, he didn’t want to appear tired at work—he was emphasizing his humanness! But why? For what purpose!?

Not many things made Kaiba feel uncomfortable, but being stared at like he was naked made him nervous. He didn’t like it at all.

“Here,” Seto barked, thrusting half of the pages he’d printed out in Joey’s direction. “This is your half to present,” he added when Joey took them, “And this is mine.” He held up the other half of the pages and let his eyes narrow into a glare. Joey met his glare and Seto allowed it to intensify until the mutt looked away.

“Are you gonna sit down or are you just gonna stand there all night, rich boy?” Joey grumbled after turning his eyes away and then quickly back. Seto moved over to the small circle of furniture at the far side of the room and sat down in one of the available chairs. It wasn’t long before Joey claimed the other, muttering something snide to himself.

( ) ( ) ( )

The practice had gone oddly well and Joey was surprised by it. Once Kaiba became focused—after nearly ten minutes of chiding comments whenever Joey would open his mouth—he became exceedingly efficient. He made suggestions to help improve Joey’s presentation skills without sounding arrogant, and even acknowledged suggestions that Joey made. 

It was like he became an entirely different person when he was working, but Joey didn’t dare comment on that. He knew that if he did Kaiba would just say something along the line of “It’s my grade too, so I’m not going to let you mess it up for me because you don’t know how speak, you dog.” So, Joey didn’t bother.

“What were you so upset about when you first got here, Wheeler?” Seto blurted out after deciding that practice had gone on too long already and it was time to stop. Joey’s eye twitched.

“None of your business,” Joey hissed in response. Kaiba just blinked in response, eyes lacking both intrigue and offense. Joey felt a pang of guilt and turned his eyes toward the floor. “My dad and I got in a fight. It’s nothing important; happens all the time.” The last person Joey wanted to discuss dads with was Kaiba. Kaiba’s real father was dead, his stepfather had been a psychopath, and Kaiba himself was practically a dad himself. 

Joey had a feeling that, whatever he said, Kaiba would have a comeback prepared to make his father look like the good guy and make him look horrible for feeling ill will against the man. He knew Kaiba would never say “Be glad you have a father, at least,” but that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking it. Joey expect him to say “I’d be pissed off, too, if I had a mutt for a son,” but Kaiba surprised him.

“Is he a high-strung kind of guy or the constantly aggravated type?” Kaiba’s face remained indifferent and Joey could hardly believe that Seto Kaiba a.k.a moneybags was making idle conversation with _him._

“Uh…a bit of both, actually,” Joey answered, still stunned. “More aggravated than high-strung though.” Kaiba looked as if he were going to say something, but just huffed instead. “Gozaburo seemed more like…the high-strung type,” Joey commented quietly. Kaiba’s eyes met his accusingly and he felt as if he’d stepped on a landmine.

“Yeah,” Kaiba responded. “He was.” The brunette stood up stiffly from his seat and left the room without saying any more. Joey remained seated and felt a bit paranoid. 

It was as if the evening had been a dream—nothing about it seemed real. Not Kaiba’s behavior, and not his own…but it seemed appropriate to act the way he had. After all, he was in Kaiba’s house and completely at his mercy. It would be best for him to act polite and agreeable. 

However, Joey couldn’t help but feel guilty. When he brought up Gozaburo, Kaiba’s eyes had immediately turned defensive and intense. That meant Kaiba had felt something, an emotion that he refused to acknowledge and express.

Most people would think it was because Kaiba hated Gozaburo, found his stepfather to be a figure in his life that had gotten in his way and wasted his time preparing him for things he didn’t care to know. Those a bit closer would assume that Kaiba hated the man because he’d turned him into something else, something unfriendly and selfish. 

Joey felt that there was something there other than hatred, perhaps admiration or respect strewn in with it that kept Kaiba grounded with Gozaburo’s memory. Gozaburo had raised Kaiba…or at least attempted to. Joey didn’t know much about their relationship before Kaiba acquired the ability to capture the man’s company like a medieval castle, but something had to have happened that made Kaiba bitter.

He had stolen Gozaburo’s company, why didn’t he flaunt that like he did his wealth? Wear it on his sleeve in placement of his heart? Beam with pride whenever Gozaburo Kaiba was mentioned because he, Seto, an orphan, had defeated that man when he was just a kid?

Joey guessed that he did flaunt that victory…he kept the last name Kaiba even though he appeared to despise the man who had owned it. 

So why did he still seem bruised at the mention of the man’s name? Seto Kaiba was _better_ than Gozaburo Kaiba. He’d proven that to the world…

Joey’s head seemed to be running around in circles.

He’d come to the same conclusion as before.

Kaiba had proven it to the world, but he hadn’t proven it to himself.


	7. Attack Dog

Ten minutes until ten thirty…Ten minutes…Okay, so he had ten minutes to answer seven essay questions. What was seven divided into ten? Okay, so he had about a minute and a half to answer each question… What was the first question? Okay…yeah, he knew the answer to that. Three sentences was the minimum…thank god he could write fast, even with the intense pressure of the exceedingly tight leather collar bound about his neck…

Okay…there were six more to go…seven minutes left? No! He needed to write faster! But that collar was so tight…it was making him gag. But there wasn’t time to gag! Second question, what was the second question? …He didn’t know the answer to that. He’d have to think about it…but there wasn’t time to think about it! He needed to know NOW! Right now, before Gozaburo showed up to check his progress.

Before he…

“The work isn’t done!” Gozaburo was already here. But how? He wasn’t there a second ago! And already… _Slam!_ He had punched the desk Seto worked at. With a swift hand, Gozaburo had grabbed him by the dog collar around his neck and shook him.

He continued shouting, but it was as if Seto had gone deaf—he couldn’t hear what he was saying. All he could do was feel the pain as he was pulled up from his seat and as he was shoved backwards hard enough that he collided with the table. When he was pushed by the man again his knees gave out and he fell back onto the desk, his head hitting the table with enough force that his vision split. 

Then his hearing returned.

“The work isn’t done! Nothing gets done around here! You’re wasting my money! You’re wasting my _time!”_ Everything turned into a blur. He was fighting to get up from the table, Gozaburo was holding him down—why was he holding him down? The man’s grip on his forearms was so strong…Seto felt as though his bones would break under the pressure.

Gozaburo released one of Seto’s arms, but only to free a hand so he could strike. With no reserve, the older man struck at the boy’s face—sending Seto’s head repeatedly into the hard table. The man’s hand collided with his face continuously, sometimes hitting his jaw, other times his ear, his nose, striking his eye or pounding against his temple.

If he tried to lift his free hand to defend himself against the blows, Gozaburo would just grab it and shove it away and continue on. Seto felt blood run from his mouth as he shouted at the man, making any threat he could think of—telling the press, calling the police. Whatever he did, if this was a test, he didn’t want to appear weak and inferior before the man…he would not submit—lay there and sob and plead for the pain to end. 

He would fight…or at least try to.

The remaining hand that pinned Seto to the table was released for a moment but, before Seto could worm away, the hand had clamped onto his throat, pressing down on the thick and heavy leather collar he was forced to wear and cut off his air supply. 

Seto had clawed at the hand, trying to pry it away and becoming more and more desperate as shadows appeared at the corners of his vision and his lungs became enflamed…but his efforts grew more disoriented and weaker as each second ticked by. 

He needed a breath or he felt he would die. His vision was growing black, his body had seemingly gone numb…He didn’t deserve this... Seto could feel his entire body going limp, his only free hand collapsing on the table weakly, fingers curling feebly.

But he didn’t want to die… He felt so helpless, but too confused to know whether or not he wanted someone to burst in the room to save him. 

He was supposed to be a man, wasn’t he? He should have been able to fight his stepfather off… He didn’t want caught dead wearing that collar… Maybe it was best if no one came… it would feel good to sleep for a while…

To succumb to the shadows for a little while.

But one world’s sleep was another’s consciousness…

Seto rolled onto his side and gazed at the clock. Three thirty… Of course it was. It was always too early to feel fully rested and too late to think going back to sleep was an option.

He sat up rigidly and brushed the tips of his fingers across on side of his neck. All that remained from that night, the fourth time that Gozaburo had ever acted violently against him, were the scars where the leather of the degrading collar had grated against his skin as he’d struggled to get loose while he still had the drive…scars he had to spend the rest of his life trying to hide.

It was so repulsive!

Seto flung the sheets off of himself and got out of bed. He was sick of having worthless memories bombard him in the night. What good did it do? Reliving the most humiliating moments of his entire life, every night like a fucking tragedy movie montage…It was all that mutt’s fault, that dog.

Everyone knew what type of man his father was—Seto had heard the blonde mutt’s friends discussing it once. Oh, he wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but those brats had to talk so loud all of the time. He didn’t care to hear about that dog’s troubles! He didn’t care about them! But knowing that that mutt was going home to a master that beat him reminded him of that worthless businessman.

He stormed into his room’s attached bathroom and shed his nightclothes. He was up at three-thirty? Fine! He’d just start his work day that much earlier. He’d take a shower, get dressed, go to his office and get some damned work done before that dog that was chewing the furniture in his guest room woke up and demanded attention…

( ) ( ) ( )

“Get up!” 

Joey jolted and fell straight off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Once the initial surprise had worn off, he found himself more annoyed that he’d fallen off the edge of a massive bed that he should have been sleeping in the middle of than at being awoken by shouting. The shouting he was used to, falling onto million dollar floors, he was not. 

“I won’t have you missing a meal so you can complain about how I didn’t feed you later, you mutt.” 

Joey peered over the edge of the bed after managing to sit up through the mess of blankets that swarmed him. He met Kaiba’s gaze with annoyance, but only grumbled a few words in response. 

“You can find the dining room yourself. You don’t have time to take a shower right now, so just keep wearing…that...and then wash up later.” Kaiba retreated from the doorway in a flourish of coattail and disappeared down the hall.

“Rich bastard,” Joey grumbled to himself, pulling away and crawling back onto the bed at the same time. As he considered returning to sleep, his stomach screamed in protest and he just kept crawling until he slid off the other side—leaving the blankets behind as he stood up from the floor.

Finding the dining room had been no trouble at all…thanks to a maid he’d passed in the hall who helped him find the right place with a plastic smile and artificial politeness. 

Kaiba was sitting at the head of the table and reading something off his laptop which occupied the table space on his right. Mokuba sat at his left, and a place had been set for Joey beside him.

Based on the shifted angle of the plate on the placemat and the disheveled appearance of the silverware on his napkin in relation to the off center place for his drink, Joey assumed that the arrangement had been moved from either the floor (since, to Kaiba, he _was_ a dog) or from the farthest side of the table possible.

For Mokuba’s sake, Joey pretended he didn’t notice.

“Seto,” Mokuba said oddly quietly after quite a few minutes ticked by. Kaiba hummed in response. “…can you—”

“I don’t have time right now, Mokuba,” Kaiba interjected, not taking his eyes from the screen. The child looked down at his plate discouraged, but not remarkably upset, but Joey was staring at the brunette in shock.

“You didn’t even hear what he had to say!” Joey stated, thinking out loud but not too ashamed of it.

“Not now, you dog,” Kaiba grumbled, hardly putting any effort into the argument.

“Seto,” Mokuba scolded. “Joey, really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, it is a big deal! If he can’t multitask—answer a question and work at the same time—then he’s not as good of a businessman as everyone keeps spouting, is he?”

“Joey,” Mokuba said in a firm, cautioning voice.

“I mean, you didn’t even let him finish his sentence! Everyone always says how nice you are to take care of your little brother. What would they say if—”

“If what?” Kaiba barked, turning his blue eyes from the screen and locking them with Joey’s. “What’s to say? Did I hit him?”

“S-Seto…”

“Did I get in his face and start shouting? Did I push him into the table? No! I guess there’s nothing to say then, is there, you filthy, inbred mongrel? So shut your mouth before I get a muzzle and do it for you!”

“Seto,” Mokuba mumbled. “It’s just Joey, calm down.”

“Dogs can still bark if they’ve got muzzles on,” Joey grumbled, not wanting to lose the argument, but not wanting the fight to escalate either. 

“Can they still bark if they’re dead, because I think I know someone who can put a dog your size down for very little money.”

“Seto!”

“In fact, I think this guy even disposes of the body for me. How kind is that?”

“So now you’re making death threats? Real mature,” Joey argued, looking at his plate but sporting no appetite. 

What was he doing? Just the night before, he had actually connected a few dots in the messed up jumble of the rich kid’s brain, and now he was tearing into him as if nothing had changed. Surely he was better than that, right?

“Is there some point you’re trying to make by attacking me?” Kaiba demanded. Joey looked up from his plate. “Because I don’t get it.” He looked as though he had more to say, but his eyes darted in Mokuba’s direction briefly and that said enough. 

That look that Mokuba probably felt but didn’t see said ‘I’m working a non-stop shift and raising a kid; you think you could do better?’ Maybe Kaiba didn’t mean it to say that, but that’s what Joey interpreted. 

And it made sense.

Though the night had passed, Kaiba was still tired, and he was still stressed. Nothing had changed from the night before. His body may have rested, but Joey doubted that the man’s mind ever did.


	8. Matters of Pride

Everyone who dared to look noticed that Kaiba was staring ahead of him as if in shock at the words that had come out of the substitute teacher’s mouth. While everyone else was sighing in relief or verbally cheering at the one day postponement of the inevitable presentation, he looked as though he were about to scream in horror. No one knew why he was so upset by the miniscule change in plan that was so relieving to everyone else…

No one except Joey. He could easily see that this change in plans completely overshadowed all of the effort he’d put into the hasty completion of their project. All of his diligence was in vain…

The only thing Joey didn’t understand was why Kaiba allowed that shock to show on his face…and for so long. He had to have noticed it.

After several minutes his face fell back to an annoyed and uninterested expression that didn’t change, even after the substitute gave the students free time to make any last minute changes on their projects.

“Anything you think we need to work on?” Joey asked him after deciding to approach him. Kaiba just stiffened his shoulders. “I take that as a no then,” Joey added, backing off a step.

“We could use more practice,” Kaiba snapped before Joey could take the initiative to leave. “I’ll have my driver pick you up at your house after school today. I’d bring you over after school, but I have stops to make on the way that I don’t need you tailing along to.”

“That’s fine, but—”

“It’ll be easier if you just stay the night again. That’s not a problem, is it?” Kaiba shot his eyes into Joey’s and the blonde stumbled with his words. Those eyes didn’t look mean, they looked…looked… Joey wanted to say seductive, but that was entirely out of context! Perhaps the _appropriate_ word was mischievous…but that had bad connotative meanings, too. Whatever those eyes held, Joey found himself spitting out the exact opposite of what he’d needed to say.

“No. That’s fine. I’ll…yeah, stay.”

“Good,” Kaiba retorted. “I’ll be by sometime after school. Give me your address.” Joey recited it to him, even though his brain mumbled that the rich boy probably already knew where he lived.

( ) ( ) ( )

Kaiba arrived in an expensive-looking black car almost two hours after school was over. Joey, nursing a screaming shoulder and sucking on a bloody lip, was thankful for that. He needed it to be a simple car instead of a fancy limo. His ears were still ringing from the fight he’d had with his father, he didn’t want to have to anticipate another argument upon his return home the next day regarding a stretch limo that was somehow embarrassing…or whatever other nonsense the drunk could come up with. 

Joey opened the door to the back seat quickly and slid inside, setting his bag on the floor by his feet and ignoring the look that the driver (who had been preparing to get out in order to open the door for him) passed him. Kaiba was sitting nearly as close to the other door as one could possibly get, and didn’t even turn his eyes in Joey’s direction until they were halfway to his mansion.

“What are you staring at?” Joey grumbled after what should’ve been a small glance turned into a straight-out gawk.

“Your mouth is bleeding,” Kaiba said stiffly, blinking his eyes slowly. Joey found himself more focused on those eyes than the words Kaiba was saying. “I don’t want you to get blood on my upholstery.” Did he blink like that on purpose? He had to! He did it again!

It was that stereotypic, slow-motion blink with the heavy eyelashes and lidded look. 

Immediately, Joey turned his head away. Kaiba was just tired, he told himself. That was why he was blinking seductively. He was too tired to keep his eyes open…

And if not that, then Kaiba was just trying to creep him out…or legitimately seduce him. 

There was no doubt in Joey’s mind that it was his first assumption…

Someone had beaten his pathetic puppy in his absence, Seto noted. The pup hadn’t looked like that when he’d left the school…so either he’d been jumped on his way home—unlikely—or it was his father.

Seto grunted in disgust and turned his head to look out his window. It didn’t take much effort to keep himself under control, but it was hard to keep his heart still in his chest. He felt as if he were nervous, or frightened, and it pissed him off that he didn’t know why. 

To Joey, it seemed as if Kaiba was…paranoid about something. Was it _normal_ for him to show that kind of emotion? No, it wasn’t normal for him to show anything except annoyance, rage, and indifference. He gave up feeling surprised though, since Kaiba had already let his guard drop several times before when he had been around…now, Joey just wondered what had—well—freaked the guy out.

The prospect of getting a little bit of blood in his car? Not likely at all. That was something to become irate over, not nervous.

To hell with it, Joey was tired of guessing.

“Is something wrong? You’re acting really weird,” Joey said as he and the young CEO stormed into the mansion. (Kaiba stormed…Joey just followed after him.)

“It’s nothing that concerns you, you mutt. Mind your own business.” Joey glared at him behind his back and gritted his teeth as he handed his bag off to a waiting maid. If he hadn’t already had his taste of a good fight today, he felt for sure he would start shouting. After losing the argument with his father and ending up with a split lip, he wasn’t in the mood. He knew he’d lose that spat, too. Kaiba wouldn’t ever let him win.

Joey followed as Kaiba led him through the mansion and to a nearly vacant sitting room…or perhaps it was an office. There was a desk with a laptop and lamp at the far wall, two chairs in one corner, and a couch in the center of the room that was the size of Joey’s entire apartment. That is to say, the room was mostly empty space. 

The instant the door was closed behind them, Joey felt the entire earth shift. Something changed, and for a minute he didn’t know what—but he could feel it. The change was palpable on the air.

“Did your father do that to your face?” Kaiba asked with a reserved tone that indicated one of his three most common emotions—indifference.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Joey muttered in response, intentionally spitting Kaiba’s words back at him. The brunette turned to face him, and his expression was anything but apathetic. 

And they all said Kaiba would be one great poker player…Joey could see the anger that was somehow different from his usual irate attitude. Perhaps what rested behind those intensely burning blue eyes was concern…a weak form of unease, but it was there. And Kaiba was definitely not happy that Joey could see it.

He turned his face away and skulked over to the laptop which he forced into life.

Seto felt as if something in his brain was falling apart…and it was probably his sanity. Yeah, he noticed that it had been slipping, but that damn mutt parading around his house was making his mental deterioration speed up.

So why did he keep calling the dog over? In all honesty, they didn’t need any more practice…he knew that he just wanted him around…

For his mind’s sake, he told himself it was so he could have something to shout at and relieve his tensions…but seeing his pet injured—even as superficially as it was—made him feel less like shouting at it and more like…like _hugging_ it. He wanted to touch it…make it real. Prove to himself that…

That what?

His thoughts abruptly stopped as he realized the dog was now at his side, drumming its tail heedlessly against the floor with one of its filthy paws on his shoulder.

“Wheeler,” Kaiba said stiffly. Joey forgot what he was going to say when those positively _humored_ eyes turned to him. “Take your hand off of me…” 

Joey pulled his hand back away and sighed. _Some_ people were comforted by touch…apparently Kaiba wasn’t one of them.

He had to admit it though, Kaiba hadn’t reacted how he had expected. He’d planned on getting yelled at—in fact, he was anticipating it. Anything to break the tension and to end that horrible altered feeling that the world had suddenly possessed. He hadn’t expected the man to snicker to himself…or then refocus his attention from the quickly loading laptop back to their previous, brief conversation.

“Did your father do that to your mouth?” He asked, his expression and his eyes becoming vacant. Once again, it was obvious that he did care, but he was hiding it. Didn’t he know that his annoyance with it was already obvious?

“What’s it to you?” Joey asked. “It’s none of your business.” He met Kaiba’s eyes firmly, and then felt his eyes widen as Kaiba’s became suddenly alert—as if something had pricked him with a needle…and it made him really, really mad.

Before Joey could even manage to find words that he thought would sufficiently erase that wrath that had appeared out of nowhere, Kaiba had laid hands on him and forced him against the wall, pinning him by the shoulders.

“It _is_ my business,” Seto felt himself say. There it was—insanity. He had gone insane and he knew it. “He shouldn’t be hitting you.” If he didn’t bite his tongue, literally, bite his tongue clean in half, he was ruined. Whoever this madman was that had taken over his brain was going to ruin him. “You’re mine.” 

The instant Kaiba had choked the words out, his eyes betrayed his own surprise at them. Joey, still trying to stammer out a coherent _syllable_ kept his eyes level with Kaiba’s just to make sure he didn’t miss something and say the wrong thing.

“You mean your…partner for the project,” Joey said, the realization finally hitting him. Of course—yeah, it made sense. Kaiba was stressed and tired…that sometimes caused people to have “episodes.” Kaiba was worried that everyone would see his split lip while they were presenting and think _he_ caused it.

That might damage his reputation if the idea was taken seriously.

“No,” Kaiba said, smashing Joey’s interpretation to pieces. “You’re just mine.” 

Seto lifted one of his hands from Joey’s shoulder and wiped a small smear of blood from beneath his pet’s lower lip. After saying the words, the madman released him, leaving Seto to try and salvage the broken remains of his self-image. He was supposed to be a cold, cool, collected businessman. Not a strange, sensitive, possessive person… 

How he wished the dog would just say something. It would be easier to come up with something to say if the awful silence was broken. The pup just seemed to be in a daze…

Save it, how could he save it? He couldn’t take it back…that would make an even bigger mess. Then he would be the possessive madman who was _ashamed_ of it… So he could run with it. He’d look like a complete psychopath, but at least he’d be without the evident indignity.

He was Seto Kaiba, if he didn’t have his pride, he was nothing.

“Just mine,” he repeated as he pulled away. His usual indifference reappeared and Joey remained standing up against the wall rigidly without knowing what to do, say, or think.


	9. Making it Worse

Practice? Kaiba had brought him over here to practice? For some reason—some exceedingly _obvious_ reason—Joey really doubted that. Maybe it had been his plan at first, but it obviously wasn’t anymore. 

His heart was pounding in his chest as the brunette with the electric blue eyes stared him down as he practiced going over his portions of the project. He could no longer focus on how badly his shoulder hurt or how much his split lip stung…all he could feel was Kaiba’s hand wiping his blood away.

Kaiba didn’t need practice…he just recited his parts apathetically and then declared that he’d be a bit more animated when it actually came time to present. 

It was obvious, however, that there was no real need for him to stay the night…He was as good as he was going to be at this… And Joey could honestly say that he didn’t think he could stand to go over it one more time… He’d lose what was left of his mind.

“Can we just stop?” Joey asked. “I think we’ve both had enough of this.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, Wheeler,” Kaiba retorted, his eyes narrowing. Joey sighed heavily and sank down on the couch.

“Come on,” Joey groaned. “Let’s just give it a break. I’m exhausted…” 

“You’re lazy,” Kaiba responded straightening himself from the wall by the desk where he had been leaning. 

“I’m not lazy—I’m _tired!”_ Joey argued. “And I’m hungry. Isn’t it time to eat yet?”

“Who said anything about eating?” Kaiba responded with ice in his voice. Joey straightened from his relaxed position and met the man’s unhappy gaze with a look of confusion.

“You can’t tell me we’re skipping dinner to work on this thing,” he said in disbelief and annoyance. “You’re perfect and I’m as good as I’m ever going to get—let’s give it a rest!”

Seto knew that a threat of a missed meal would set Joey off. He knew it, and yet he still wanted to laugh in surprise when it worked. That was the only thing that distracted him…the rest of his mind was still in a mad panic from what he’d allowed himself to do. From where he stood, he could see no way of escaping from the mess he’d made…all he could do was pretend it never happened or make it worse.

He didn’t know which one was the best choice. Obviously, for his own protection and for the preservation of his self-image, the best option was to pretend that nothing had happened. Joey would come to conclusions on his own, he’d been making up excuses for everything Seto had done since the first time they’d worked together—even the small things—now, with a serious incident, he would have no choice but to think about it…He couldn’t possibly overlook it.

But what would he think? That was what Seto wanted to know. What would he think of it?

As it was, it seemed that the pet was trying not to think of it. He was more focused on his empty stomach…

Maybe the issue could just drop and disappear… If Joey couldn’t find an answer, Seto was sure he’d just give up. Working hard and thinking hard didn’t seem like the mutt’s favorite activities…

If he didn’t do anything else—if he didn’t make it worse—Joey would probably forget it had happened… After all, nothing really major had happened…he’d just gotten that…that person, that _dog’s_ blood in his hands. 

See? Seto thought to himself. There wasn’t anything to worry about at all.

As long as he didn’t. mess. it. up.

“How about this,” Kaiba said. Joey glowered at his from the couch, not liking his tone. “I’ll let you have dinner if you do one thing that I say.”

“Fine,” Joey answered, looking in his classmate’s eyes and searching for any sparks that he didn’t like. There were a lot of them…and Kaiba was drawing closer to him…standing right in front of him and staring at him with those eyes that were dancing with menace and a vicious little smirk dwelling on his lips.

Then those eyes turned away from Joey’s to look down at his slowly scabbing lip. 

“Tell me,” Kaiba said, meeting Joey’s gaze once again. “Did your father do that to you?” Joey managed to glare at him for about half a second before he felt compelled to lose his rage. Kaiba looked so sympathetic, so… _concerned._

“Yeah,” Joey said, lowering his head for just a moment. “I said something that set him off.” He didn’t want to have his eyes off of Kaiba for long—not in _fear_ that Kaiba would try to touch him again, but just so that he would know if he tried.

“Did you hit him back?” Kaiba asked, his face suddenly looking apathetic and cold. Joey could see nothing in the blue eyes…but he could tell by their unwavering intensity that Kaiba was a lot more interested than he was behaving.

“Wouldn’t have done me any good,” Joey said, his face becoming as blank as Kaiba’s. “Can we eat now?” Kaiba looked at him as if disappointed and glanced back down at Joey’s lips. “What? Am I bleeding again?” Joey raised a hand and touched a finger to the split, but, before the salts of his skin had time to make the slash sting, Kaiba had grabbed the hand away and was leaning in far too close. 

Joey leaned back against the couch, and only had time to blink and take in the vastly conflicted look in Kaiba’s eyes before another pair of lips was pressed against his own. 

There was no salvation, Seto knew. Whatever madman had possessed him before had taken over once again. The first time he’d only touch him, now he was kissing him? No, there wasn’t a way to escape from this mess…

He could only make it bigger…

If he was going to do anything, he was going to act like he meant to. That meant no brief peck on those wounded lips. It meant taking enough time to relish the contact and to begin to taste his blood as it was smeared on his bottom lip. It meant being forced to listen in silence to the madman that whispered in his brain.

_Kiss back. Please. Kiss back so I don’t look like a fool…_

Of course, Joey never did. 

Kaiba pulled away, face blank but eyes haunted by a vicious amount of insecurity and surprise. He wasn’t looking at Joey, it seemed he was staring at the floor, even as he mindlessly wiped the smudge of blood off of his bottom lip. 

Joey didn’t know what to say to him or how to react. Once again, Kaiba had his mind completely twisted and lost. Piece by piece, Joey tried to figure everything out.

Kaiba had kissed him, and was now standing in front of him and staring at the floor, probably asking himself why… If he didn’t know why, Joey knew it was a waste of time trying to figure it out first... There were other matters at hand.

Kaiba had kissed him…how did he feel about that? Joey knew that under any other situation—during any other time—he would have felt more than a small bit agitated and intensely confused. He would have pondered over what Kaiba could have been scheming—what rumor was he trying to spread? What insulting message was he trying to send?

This time, under these circumstances, Joey didn’t feel mad, he felt…kind of sorry for Kaiba. He was obviously trying to say something, Joey obviously wasn’t picking up on it, so he had to rely on a kiss that neither one of them understood.

He had been kissed…By Seto Kaiba… 

How did he feel about that? 

Not angry… acceptably confused… The key was that he wasn’t mad… So, if he wasn’t mad, what was he? He needed to find out, and fast because Kaiba was starting to get a look of horror in his eyes that masked the rest of his feelings… Joey didn’t like that one bit.

If he wasn’t mad, what was he? He was… Kinda happy about it…

“Kaiba,” he said, slowly standing up in front of the brunette who immediately locked their gazes. Kaiba’s eyes had turned into a mask of rage and bitterness…that had to mean that, inside, he was the most distressed boy in the world. 

Kaiba didn’t say anything back; that told Joey enough as it was. That meant that he knew he had taken things too far and assumed that the apocalypse was on the horizon.

Joey had nothing he could say to that. He couldn’t think of the words, and he didn’t have time to think logically about anything else. All there was inside of him was a need to banish the thoughts that were tearing his friend’s mind apart. 

If Kaiba had kissed him and he wasn’t angry about it, then he must have been contented with it. There was no time to think about the meaning of Kaiba’s kiss—what brought it on? what was it saying?—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t return it, backed with emotions of his own.

Seto’s heart didn’t skip a beat, and he didn’t lose his ability to breathe, but he was still taken off guard when that blonde…person…put its lips to his. Why? Why would he do that? It was obvious that that creature—that dog—that _kid_ hated him. 

Right?

Ah, hell… The dog probably just wanted to make sure it got fed!

Kaiba abruptly pulled away, but before he could harden his eyes again, Joey had already seen the intense pain within them. Kaiba turned his back to him and started for the door with his head lowered just enough for his bangs to conceal his eyes. 

“Come on,” he practically shouted, lifting his head after getting all of his emotions back in check. “I’ll get you something to eat before you start chewing my sofa!” Joey drew back in surprise at the sudden rage, but understood it enough not to snap back with serious anger.

For Kaiba’s sake, he replied with some.

“I’m not your dog, rich boy!” Joey shouted and stormed past the brunette, out of the room. For Kaiba’s sake, he had to behave relatively normal—though he’d be damned if he could remember what he normally acted like at that moment—that way, if Kaiba so chose, they could act like nothing had happened…

Like neither of them had “gotten over their differences” as Yugi would have put it and grew closer in just a few minutes’ time…

( ) ( ) ( )

Seto knew he’d gone insane… He couldn’t even remember what he had been thinking. At that moment, his houseguest was sitting in their dining room with Mokuba, eating everything placed before him with zealous enthusiasm. Seto had managed to escape from eating by acting as if he’d gotten a call…

Neither of them had fallen for it, but it somehow seemed better than just walking off.

Hidden away securely in his office, Seto let out a quiet groan and buried his head in his hands for several seconds…certainly not long enough to look half as weak or detestable as he felt. What was the matter with him? That was the only thought in his brain.

He’d just kissed that putrid, blonde dog—that juvenile delinquent—that _boy!_ Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if that blonde punk had wanted it, but he hadn’t! All of that returning of the gesture was probably just an act of nervousness or some sort of sick, disgusting kindness on that kid’s part. Done just so he, Seto, would feel better.

He only felt worse and worse by the second.

What could he do to fix this, because he didn’t want to make it worse. His mind told him to hide away in his room, call the practice for the project done, _disappear_ for a little while…but he just couldn’t allow himself to do that.

He already looked so weak now…there was no excuse to allow himself to behave even more pathetic. Seto knew that he would have to face that boy again, and it was quite honestly scaring him.

He didn’t want to. He wanted to hide, to disappear, to cease existing for a minute…At least until he banished this madman who had taken up roost in his mind. He just couldn’t allow himself to do that…

It was so much like before…so much like that first time…

The past wasn’t a comfortable place to revisit, but it was at least familiar. He knew the turnout there…so he welcomed the memories he spent most of his time banishing from sight.

He’d felt the same then… He hadn’t wanted to face that man. He hadn’t known what to do or say, or if he should have done or said anything…

Back then, with Gozaburo, Seto had stayed silent. It had been the best option…

With Joey…he didn’t want him to go away. He finally had him as close as he wanted him—for whatever sick purpose he wanted him for that he had previously been too shy, too _wise_ to initiate—if he did and said nothing, Joey would disappear. 

It would all disappear.

But wasn’t that what needed to happen? 

Seto groaned softly and looked towards the dead scene outside his window.

Once again, he couldn’t have what he wanted…


	10. Domesticated

Dinner hadn’t been so horrible after all, Seto had realized after he’d finally composed himself enough to venture out of his office. Eating was so simple… You didn’t have to talk when you ate because your mouth was full.

And let’s face it, Mokuba had more than enough to say. He always did. He balanced Seto out. 

_Dinner_ hadn’t been so horrible. In the presence of all of the others, Seto felt normal. Mokuba was there talking about something…Seto felt remotely bad about not remembering what…there were maids rushing in and out, offering more food and fresher drinks… None of them allowed themselves to be distracted by the smile—the _smirk_ —that their employer had creeping over his face as he watched the houseguest stew in excitement over the never-ending meal. 

Seto felt…normal when he was surrounded by the others who didn’t know what he was really like. He felt normal when he was acting like Kaiba.

Immediately after leaving the dining room, that feeling—that control—vanished. Mokuba skidded away to some part of the house leaving Joey and Seto…alone again.

“Kaiba…” Joey said, once the brunette had followed him into his assigned bedroom seemingly without thought once dinner was over. He looked at him over his shoulder, but didn’t like the cold, insensitive message that the body language sent and turned to face him directly. “Why do you…Why did you ask if my dad was the one who—”

“Because if anyone else hit you, you wouldn’t be here.” Kaiba locked their eyes. He was glaring and it made Joey nervous. “You think I don’t remember hearing about your reputation?”

“My repu—”

“The best little mumble I ever picked up on was the kid who hissed that Wheeler was like an attack dog. Brainless and mean.” Joey’s eyes narrowed while Kaiba’s curved upwards in a smile. “If you crossed him the wrong way, he’d tear you apart. It reminded me of me. And we both know how much I ‘love’ _me.”_ Kaiba’s tone sounded both honest and sarcastic at the same time. “You don’t let people push you around. Not even me—and I have more than enough power and money to run you into your grave. I could have you go missing and no one would ask a question or even _think_ to point their finger at me. You know that and you still take every chance you can get to piss me off.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Joey asked, keeping his eyes locked with Kaiba’s and watching as sanity and madness swarmed inside of those electric blue eyes.

“We’re evenly matched,” Kaiba stated, as if commenting on the weather. It’s raining, didn’t you know? That was what his tone sounded like.

“What does that have to do with my dad?” Joey asked, looking away briefly because Kaiba’s eyes were becoming mesmerizing. What did any of this have to do with being hit by his dad? Kaiba said that the two of them were alike—“evenly matched”—that they were…both attack dogs? Brainless and mean? 

If anyone but his father had hit him, he wouldn’t be here? Where? Here in the mansion or here in the world? 

Yeah, Joey admitted that he could get into some pretty intense fights, but he’d never kill anyone to prove a point. Maybe Kaiba meant that he’d have picked a fight and gotten himself killed.

But what did that have to do with…

“Why do you let him get away with it?” Kaiba asked, grabbing Joey’s chin and forcing their eyes to meet again. 

Joey saw something there, and dots were connected with lines.

Kaiba saw himself in Joey—at least vaguely. They were both bullheaded, both ruthless to some extent, and fairly persistent. They didn’t let people push them around, they didn’t give up, and they didn’t have any trouble getting their hands dirty if the moment called for it.

Joey knew about Gozaburo. Not in detail, but he knew enough.

Why did you let him get away with it? Kaiba had asked. Why didn’t you fight back harder and put that old man in his place?

Joey had asked himself that question dozens of times and came up with multiple answers. Because he was just a drunk old man who didn’t know what he was doing half of the time. His dad was depressed about losing his wife and daughter. A middle-aged man had nothing on a teenager in a fist fight—his stamina would give out if he fought too hard. A teenager heals faster than an older person—he didn’t want his dad to be hurt.

He loved him. Yeah, his dad could be mean and inexcusably brutal, but he was his dad…

That wasn’t the answer Kaiba was looking for though. Kaiba didn’t want to hear about love or father-to-son affection. 

Such things were foreign to him. He couldn’t comprehend them.

Maybe Kaiba actually thought they could connect over the cruelty of their fathers, but Joey didn’t think that they could. Joey still loved his dad, Kaiba obviously didn’t. 

“He’s my dad,” Joey said. An answer that wouldn’t satisfy the other’s needs. “And I can handle it.”

“But you don’t have to!” Joey flinched and met Kaiba’s anxious gaze. He’d used a parental tone—the type he commonly used with Mokuba.

“Kaiba, I don’t know where you’re trying to take this—”

“You shouldn’t let him get away with doing this!” Kaiba ran his finger along the cut on Joey’s lip and narrowed his eyes into a glare.

“It’s none of your business!”

“I won’t let him hurt you!”

“Why do you act like you care all of a sudden!?” Joey spat back. “Two weeks ago you cursed the fact that I even exist. Why do you care so much now?”

“I always care. You’re near me. Your image reflects mine.”

“So let me go!” Joey pushed Kaiba away from him, just for emphasis. It was hard to think rationally when the man who you used to think was your enemy was shoving anxiety and worry down your throat.

“I don’t want to! I want you around and it’s pissing me off! I don’t need _anyone,_ so why do I want you?”

“Why _do_ you want me?” Joey demanded.

“Because you’re _mine!”_

“No, Kaiba, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! And I’m not going to let some drunken lowlife tear up something important to me! He doesn’t deserve to have you, and I do! I’ll take care of you!”

“I can take care of myself!” Joey shouted. “Why do you think I need you? I can barely stand you half of the time!” Kaiba’s eyes narrowed further, but he didn’t seem put-off by the words. “I don’t want you involved!”

“Yes, you do,” Kaiba said, his expression becoming one of smug certainty. “Sometimes, you do. You want help, then you don’t want help—you want someone, but you don’t. I chose not to let anyone get involved. I won’t let you do that to yourself.” 

Joey clenched his teeth and stared at Kaiba through narrow eyes. Deep down, he understood what was happening. He knew Kaiba was seeing Joey as a reflection of himself—as if looking at Joey were looking into a slightly warped mirror. He wasn’t talking about Joey wanting help or not wanting help, he was seeing himself when he’d needed help and there was no one around to save him.

He tried to be rational, but Joey couldn’t tamp down the anger, the _rage_ he felt for Kaiba who’d done nothing but insist upon causing him pain for years. Kaiba, who had never _once_ been nice to him before was all of a sudden bringing out this backhanded affection and had the _nerve_ to say Joey _wanted_ it. 

_Kaiba,_ who repeatedly referred to Joey as a dog and worked so hard to undermine his self-confidence and self-worth, told Joey that he was _his?_ That Kaiba had some sort of _ownership_ over him? 

“Stay out of my business, Kaiba,” Joey spat. “What goes on in my house, in _my_ life, has nothing to do with you. And no matter what you think, I’m not _yours._ I don’t belong to anybody!”

Joey had expected the words to make Kaiba angry. To get him frustrated at least. But Kaiba’s face showed nothing. He didn’t have shock, he didn’t have carefully concealed pain—his face was blank. Hard, icy eyes. Thin, pressed lips. 

At the very least, he expected Kaiba to _say something._ But he just stood there. His face blank until, all of a sudden, his lips twisted into a large smirk. 

“I _mean_ it, Kaiba,” Joey said, feeling nervous when Kaiba just continued to stare. 

“Wheeler—”

“Cut it out!” Joey yelled when Kaiba’s face just kept getting more and more twisted. “Ever since I met you, all you ever did was bully me and degrade me. Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?”

“Because we’re alone,” Kaiba said darkly. 

Joey didn’t like the shadows that appeared in Kaiba’s eyes. It made him look more dangerous than sleep-deprived or stressed. 

“What, you can only be nice to me when no one’s lookin’, rich boy?” 

Seto felt like he’d lost control of everything. Whatever he’d been working toward so gradually over the past few days was falling down rapidly around him. Joey was getting angry, his tone had become spiteful, and for once in his life Seto couldn’t think of anything to say. 

He didn’t want to admit it, but the anger in Joey’s eyes _hurt_ him. Seto knew he deserved that rage—he’d done nothing but make Joey’s life a living hell whenever he’d been around before. Of course Joey wasn’t going to welcome his kindness with open arms. He’d be a fool to. Joey was suspicious of the generosity because he was afraid of what would happen if and when Kaiba took it away. Would the kindness be replaced with more hostility? More pain? If all he knew at home was abuse and neglect, he had a right to be wary of Seto’s shifting mood.

Unable to think, unable to come up with an answer that would calm Joey down, Seto gave in to the madman at the back of his mind. He lunged forward and grabbed Joey by the back of the head, he forced their mouths together. Blood from Joey’s lip ran into his mouth, spit that came with Joey’s stifled scream ran into his mouth, Joey’s breath ran into his mouth—it was perfect. Even the way Joey looked when he finally broke free was perfect.

“That’s—Kaiba! That’s what I’m _talkin’ about!_ You can’t _do_ that!”

“Do what?” Kaiba asked, smirking.

“You _know_ what,” Joey said, looking so confused and uncomfortable. “ _That._ You can’t just… _kiss_ me like that.”

“Why?” Seto asked. 

“Because we’re not— Kaiba, what’s going on with you, man? Did you get on new meds or somethin’?”

Now Joey was feeling concern for him. It was funny to watch his rage turn to an embarrassed red flush on his cheeks. 

“We need to practice, Wheeler. You still get mixed up when reading your parts of the presentation. No one’s going to buy anything from you if you can’t even explain what it is without confusing yourself.” Seto smirked when Joey’s eye started twitching. For some reason he was biting back his rage, maybe realizing that the great Seto Kaiba had finally lost his mind. Seto knew it was pity that made Joey bite his tongue, but this was probably the only time in his life Seto didn’t detest being pitied. Right now, it worked too much to his advantage. 

“Fine,” Joey said, wiping the blood off his lip and sitting down with his papers in hand. He sighed heavily and started reading off information about a scientific experiment. Seto watched him and recited his parts when they came, mostly from memory. As he recited, he would see Joey flashing him cautious, nervous looks. He was afraid Seto would pounce him again. That puppy was so cute…

( ) ( ) ( )

“Tristan, I need your help.” Joey was whispering into the phone in his room at Kaiba’s house. He didn’t have his own cell phone and was made to talk on the phone Creepy Kaiba probably had bugged.

“What?—Why are you callin’ me so late for, man? We’ve got school tomorrow,” Tristan said, sounding like he’d been woken from a very deep sleep.

“Somethin’ weird’s goin’ on with Kaiba,” Joey whispered.

“Weirder than normal?”

“He’s…he’s being nice. Like, _nice,_ nice to me, you know?”

“No, I _don’t_ know… Can you wrap this up? I wanna go back to bed.”

“This is gonna sound really weird, and I don’t want you to freak out—Ah, I probably shouldn’t say anything about it, but I’m really confused about it.”

“Confused about _what,_ Joey?”

“Okay, you’re not gonna believe me, but he _kissed_ me. Like…on the mouth. More than once.”

There was a long pause and Joey was prepared to ask if he was still on the line.

“He did WHAT!? Are you _serious?_ ”

“Yeah, I’m serious!” Joey said. “He did it like…three times now.”

“Why didn’t you punch him the first time and make him stop?—Is he out of his mind or something?”

“I don’t know, man. He’s actin’ really weird.” Joey wasn’t going to mention how possessive Kaiba had acted. He wasn’t going to tell Tristan how Kaiba called him “his,” like he was property. “I know he’s tired and stressed, but this is just something else.”

“Did you tell him to quit it?” Tristian asked.

“I did the last time and he just smirked at me, then he acted like nothing happened. I don’t know what to do.”

“Beat him up. That’s sexual harassment. You could ruin his whole career if you wanted to.”

“No,” Joey said, feeling embarrassed when he realized he didn’t want to hurt Kaiba even though he wouldn’t have let the opportunity pass him by even a month ago. “I don’t want to do that to him. He’s got something goin’ on with him, I just don’t know what or what to do.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Joey. That’s so weird. I can’t believe he _kissed_ you. He _actually_ kissed you.”

“I know, Tristan. I was there.”

“And you didn’t punch him?”

“I don’t wanna punch him…”

“Well that’s new. You were foaming at the mouth to get a shot at him just last week. Don’t tell me you forgot how he used to call you a dog.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. He still does that. It’s Kaiba we’re talkin’ about here.”

“So he calls you a dog, then kisses you, and you let him get away with it? You’re going soft on me, man.”

“I told you, he’s got somethin’ goin’ on. I just don’t know what… He got really mad when he saw that my dad and I got in a fight. I had a split lip and Kaiba just went…crazy. He said all kinds of weird stuff and then he kissed me.”

“What kind of stuff?” When Joey didn’t answer, Tristan asked again. “Joey, what did he say to you?”

“It was weird. He said…” Joey sighed heavily and started rubbing at his brow. He knew where this was all heading now and he didn’t know if Tristan would blow up about it or not. “He said he wanted to take care of me, and when I asked why he was suddenly acting like a he cared about me, he said it was because we were alone.”

“Oh, wow… That’s—Joey, you don’t think… _you know,_ do you?”

“I don’t know,” Joey answered. Did he think Kaiba wanted more to do with him than just to torment him? “I guess I can’t get past the idea that he’s just doing it to mess with my head, to see if he can freak me out.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kaiba. The only games he plays with people is Duel Monsters—otherwise he’s kinda straightforward. Either he likes you or he doesn’t.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, Tristan, but up until we got paired for this project, Kaiba _hated_ me. Now he’s kissin’ me and callin’ me his!”

“He said you were his?”

Joey groaned and fell back against the large, spacious mattress. “Yeah. When I asked why he kept pushin’ to know if my dad was the one who hit me, he started sayin’ ‘you’re mine.’ It’s so weird…”

“That doesn’t sound like Kaiba. Are you sure it’s not an imposter?” Tristan laughed with good humor and Joey growled in his ear.

“You gotta be serious, man, and help me with this!”

“It’s simple, Joey. If you don’t want Kaiba _kissing_ you, then tell him to quit and punch him if he doesn’t listen. I can’t even believe you’re confused about what to do. That’s not like you—are you sure they aren’t spiking the water over there in that mansion?”

“I just feel like something else is going on. I don’t want to hurt Kaiba—”

“See, that’s where you don’t sound like yourself. Since when do you _not_ want to beat the crap out of Kaiba?”

Joey sighed and rubbed at his face again. He didn’t want to hurt Kaiba because he could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d been hurt before. Seeing Joey hurt by his dad reminded Seto of being hurt by his stepfather. 

“Maybe he just wants to make a friend…and doesn’t know how,” Joey mumbled.

“I think even Kaiba knows kissing people isn’t how you make friends.”

“I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

“Well, you don’t _have_ to do anything. Once the project is done, you won’t have to see him anymore. If you don’t see him, he can’t—” Tristan paused to laugh. “—he can’t kiss you again. Unless you want him to, that is.” Tristian said it as a joke, but it made Joey cringe.

“Why would I _want_ him to?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who didn’t punch him right away—anyway, I’d love to keep chatting with you, Joey, but I need sleep. We’ve got class and I’m getting detention if I sleep through History again.”

“Alright, bye, Tristan. But, hey, don’t…don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I don’t want it getting around.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Joey.” Tristan hung up without saying goodbye, leaving Joey to lie on the large mattress alone with his thoughts.

Why _hadn’t_ he punched Kaiba for that stupid kiss or the ones before it? Kaiba deserved to get punched for the stuff he was saying… Why didn’t Joey want to punch him the one time he deserved it more than any time before?


	11. The Let Down

Seto couldn’t sleep. He stared at his ceiling, cursing himself for how out of hand he was letting himself get. He’d worked too long, too hard to let himself ruin it just because some blonde dog had come sniffing around his house. Yes, he felt sorry for Joey. Yes, he hated the fact that Joey had no mother in the picture and a dad that beat him up. Yes, Seto had to admit it, he hated that he knew how Joey felt. He saw himself in Joey—a poor, less educated, impulsive version of himself. 

A nicer version of himself. The way he would’ve been had he stayed at the orphanage instead of tricking a sadistic monster into adopting him and his brother.

At three-thirty in the morning, Seto gave up on sleeping and got out of bed. He sat on the edge of his bed for almost twenty minutes before giving up and getting dressed. Once he was dressed, he left his room and before he realized it, he was standing next to Joey’s bed in the guestroom. 

After ten minutes of watching blonde sleep and listening to him murmur about wanting hamburgers with more cheese, Seto kicked the foot of the bed to wake Joey up. 

“Nyeh! What’s happening!?” Joey called in alarm, sitting up and clutching his pillow to his chest as if protecting it from an attack. “Kaiba? What’s goin’ on? Is there an earthquake or somethin’? I felt the bed move!”

“That’s because I kicked it,” Seto said, holding back on calling Joey a stupid dog. “Get up.”

“Why? It’s three in the mornin’! What’s your problem?” Joey said, looking at the clock and letting his tone turn to a weepy, pathetic groveling sound. 

Now that he had Joey awake, Seto was at a loss for what to do with him. Joey wasn’t like Mokuba. Seto couldn’t just go into his room and strike up a conversation, no questions asked. 

“We need to practice our presentation,” Seto said, knowing once the words were out how crazy and manic he made himself sound—how like Gozaburo Kaiba he sounded.

“Stop it,” Joey moaned, lying back down. “You’re crazy if you think I’m getting’ outta bed at three in the mornin’ to study with you!”

“You’re lazy,” Kaiba growled. 

“And you’re a psycho!” Joey yelled. “First you’re nice to me, then ya kiss me, now you’re wakin’ me up in the middle of the night! What’s _wrong_ with you!?”

Seto just stared at him. There was no answer for his actions. He was getting obsessed with Joey the way he got obsessed with new projects and inventions. Joey was all he thought about—all he really wanted to think about. He couldn’t sleep knowing Joey was alone in a room down the hall with a split lip and countless bruises on his neck and arms. Joey was a careless, sloppy street punk—but he was _Seto’s_ careless, sloppy street punk. He shouldn’t be getting beaten by his father. Not at his age. Joey should be fighting back, and if he refused to do it, Seto was going to have to do it for him.

And Seto didn’t want arrested for beating Joey Wheeler’s father half to death just because he couldn’t beat Gozaburo who deserved it the most. 

“Get up, Wheeler,” Seto said, kicking the bed again. Joey let out an indignant cry and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head.

“You’re crazy—Crazy Kaiba! Crazy Kaiba!”

Seto growled and grabbed the blankets from over Joey’s head, yanking them until his pet was exposed. 

“Cut it out!” Joey yelled. “What do you want?”

Seto stared at Joey and weighed his options. Joey would never tell anyone what he did. He wouldn’t go to the press about the odd, forceful kisses no more than he would tell about the faulty virtual games Seto had made and failed to perfect. Seto began to wonder what all he could get away with before Joey finally snapped. 

Not that Seto was going to push it that far. He wasn’t mean; he wasn’t a rapist. He wasn’t going to hurt Joey. There was no need to hurt Joey, anyway. If he didn’t like Seto’s advances, he would’ve punched him in the face or fought him off by now. No… The pup wanted Seto’s attention.

And who was Seto to deny the pup anything?

Joey watched in petrified horror as Kaiba sat down on the bed and then started crawling toward him. He couldn’t tell if it was scary like a horror film, or scary like a crime drama. Kaiba was moving toward him like…

Joey flinched and started trying to crawl back up toward the headboard to get away. Kaiba was coming at him like some kind of teenage fantasy, porn star. Everything from the way the bright, white security lighting that bled through the windows lit up Kaiba’s face to the way he moved his shoulders and hips. It was…sensual—it was crazy! 

“Y-you tryin’ ta mess with me, rich boy?” Joey said, trying to sound ferocious but just sounding nervous. 

“Hush,” Kaiba said, reaching out slowly with one hand and cupping Joey’s cheek. His thumb traced the sore spot on Joey’s lip where his father had punched him and Joey flinched. Kaiba was _obsessed_ with the injury. Then it was like he really thought he could kiss it and make it better. 

Kaiba crawled over top of Joey’s body, even when Joey started flailing his legs to get him away. Kaiba pressed his lips against the side of Joey’s mouth and then ever so slowly started moving to the left so he could kiss Joey full on. It was different from the rushed kisses Kaiba had given him before. This one was slow—it was intimate and practiced. 

Joey tried to push Kaiba away, but Kaiba just grabbed his wrist in an almost gentle grasp and pushed it aside. Once he let go of Joey’s wrist, he placed his hand on the back of Joey’s head and held him still as he started running the tip of his tongue against his captive’s lower lip. Joey made a noise like a cry and tried to turn his face away.

He’d had a lot of fantasies in his life, but none of them ever involved cocky, rich boy Kaiba crawling into his bed and kissing him. 

When he tried to open his mouth to tell Kaiba to back off, the rich boy took it as an invitation and moaned slightly before sliding his tongue into Joey’s mouth. The hand on the back of his head went from holding to caressing, and Joey squirmed as Kaiba’s other hand came around to rub at his hip. 

Joey was completely out of excuses for how crazy Kaiba was acting—so what if he was stressed? Who cared if he was tired? It was going on four in the morning! Why was Kaiba in here trying to rape him when he should be in bed sleeping and fighting off the crazy!?

When the hand on his hip started going toward Joey’s abdomen, the blonde finally lost his cool. He screamed into Kaiba’s mouth and started pushing on him again. He was gearing up to start a real fight, even if it meant Kaiba’s legal team would spin it and make Kaiba the victim somehow, but as soon as he screamed, Kaiba pulled away. Kaiba just backed off and stared at him as if he didn’t understand why Joey was freaking out.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked in a tone Joey had _never_ heard Kaiba use, not even toward Mokuba. It harbored so much sympathy—so much _fear._ It showed he cared. It showed how _much_ he cared. 

“Why—Why do you keep doin’ that!?” Joey yelled, staring at Kaiba who stared at him in return. Did he really think it was okay to just do with Joey what he wanted? Where in their history together did he get the idea that it was okay to start kissing him whenever he wanted—or that Joey wanted him to? “And don’t say ‘cause I’m yours—because I’m not! All you ever do is pick on me and make me feel bad about myself. Don’t think that because you can get whoever you want that you can come in here and try to screw with me too! I’m not one of your fans, money bags—”

“Fans?” Kaiba echoed, like the word was foreign to him. “I don’t take fans to bed with me, Joey.”

“Yeah right,” Joey said. “Like you learned that whole display from playing around with your pillow.” Once the words were out, Joey choked on them. Kaiba’s face looked haunted and he pulled away. He didn’t think Kaiba reacted that way because he was being rejected for the first time. And when that look of fear grew worse and worse until Kaiba got up from the bed and disappeared into the hallway, Joey thought that maybe Kaiba hadn’t ‘leaned that whole display’ in any way that was pleasant. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Like always, Joey was taken to school in a separate car from Kaiba after breakfast. Kaiba entered the dining room just long enough to tell Mokuba he would be home late from work, and then just walked out without eating or even looking in Joey’s direction. Joey couldn’t blame him though. He’d be embarrassed too if he crawled into some other guy’s bed at three in the morning and tried to cop a feel. 

Joey wasn’t mad at Kaiba for it though. No, he was mad at him for an entirely different reason.

Like _not showing up to class for their presentation._ Kaiba just never came. Joey was left sitting in his desk looking around like an idiot, expecting Kaiba to stroll through the door—but he never did. 

“Where’s your partner, Mr. Wheeler?” The teacher asked, looking at Joey with a smug expression as if he actually held the answer. How the hell would he know where Kaiba was? Kaiba was his own person, and he sure as hell didn’t answer to Joey.

“N-no clue,” Joey muttered. 

“Is this your way of saying you two need _another_ extension? You already had an extra day to work…”

“Our project’s done. I don’t know where Kaiba is,” Joey said, scowling in the direction of Kaiba’s empty seat. How dare Kaiba make him go to his house and sleep over—get harassed—and then not even come to class on the day the project was due!? Who did that guy think he was!?

All of his lunch period, Joey yelled to Tristan about it. They sat together on the roof, Tristan casually eating from his bento while Joey screamed around a fancy sandwich Kaiba’s dinning staff had made him “at Master Kaiba’s command.”

“Wow, Joey. He’s got you even more worked up than usual,” Tristan said. “Maybe somethin’ happened to him.”

“If somethin’ happened to him, this whole town would know about it the second it happened! There’d be girls cryin’ everywhere, afraid he lost his good looks in a car wreck.”

“From what you’ve told me, I think his fangirls are gonna be crying over something else here soon,” Tristian said, giving Joey a devilish smirk.

Joey felt his face turn red and he focused more on his sandwich—stuffing the rest of it into his mouth to avoid talking. 

“Has he really been trying to kiss you?”

“Trying?” Joey said around his mouthful of food. “He’s _succeeded._ Multiple times!”

“And you still haven’t punched him?—I’m starting to think you like it, Joey.”

“Hey! That’s victim blamin’, man! That’s not even funny!”

“Victim blaming? All he did was kiss you. If you didn’t like it, you’d tell him to stop it.”

“I do! He keeps doing it! This morning he crawled into my bed with me. He’s actin’ _weird._ ”

“He got in bed with you? And you _didn’t_ punch him?”

“I yelled at him,” Joey said with little conviction.

“Okay, the Joey _I_ know would never let Kaiba get away with that. What’s he done to get inside your head?”

Joey sighed and set the sandwich aside. In his time with Kaiba, Joey had learned that he wasn’t _as_ horrible of a person as he’d thought. The guy had some dark secrets, and whatever they were caused Kaiba to be nicer to him…and when Kaiba was actually trying to be nice, he wasn’t that awful of a guy. Joey wasn’t planning to run off into the sunset with him holding hands and skipping, but he wasn’t planning on punching Kaiba in the face for being handsy either. 

“He’s just actin’ strange, Tristan. When he was in my room this morning, he was…vulnerable. It was _weird_ seeing _Kaiba_ like that.”

“Vulnerable? How?”

“Eh, I said somethin’ to him,” Joey said, leaving out there part where Kaiba’s kissing transformed from something forceful to something a little more sensual and seductive. “He just looked really hurt and he walked off—he didn’t even insult me back or anything. He just walked away.”

“Yeah, and skipped class you would present late and lose points—and probably have to go back to his house.”

“Why would I have to go back to his house?” Joey muttered.

“Duh, because he’s luring you in. I bet you anything, if you _don’t_ go to his house tonight, he won’t be in class tomorrow either. He’s gonna make you come to him.”

Joey groaned and scratched at his head, annoyed that Tristan was able to figure that out before he could. Of course Kaiba was going to trick him into going back to his mansion? How else would keep Joey around? If the project was finished and turned in, there’d be no excuse to see him (or kiss him in the middle of the night). 

( ) ( ) ( )

“I don’t care what you think, Wheeler. You can tell I’m busy. I didn’t skip class to draw you into my house. If I wanted you somewhere, don’t you think I’d tell you? I don’t have time to play mind games.”

Joey stood in front of Kaiba’s desk at his office, fuming and feeling his eyebrow twitch erratically. Kaiba was smirking the whole time he spoke, making it obvious that he was playing ‘mind games.’ He didn’t show up because he wanted to see if Joey came chasing after him. In a few minutes, the dog insults would be coming in rapid fire. 

“Right. So you’re tellin’ me you just skipped class and left me hanging because you just decided work was more important than _our_ grade!?”

Kaiba rolled his eyes and Joey was prepared to cock back his fist and punch him. 

“If it means that much to you, Wheeler, I can give teacher a call and have her work something out for you,” Kaiba said, adopting a condescending tone and an even more twisted smirk. 

“What’s your problem, rich boy? You’re up to somethin’ and I know it. You’d better tell me what it is before I beat it out of ya,” Joey said, scowling darkly and raising his fist as threateningly as he could.

“You? Beat it out of me? You don’t stand a chance,” Kaiba said, his eyes narrowing and his smirk fading into tightly pressed lips. 

“Don’t tempt me, moneybags. After the stunts you been tryina’ pull, I could ruin your reputation in all the local papers. So don’t…don’t tempt me.” Joey’s passion faded immediately into fear when Kaiba stood from his desk, a dark expression in his face and eyes. 

“Are you threatening me?” Kaiba said, his voice low. He stepped around the desk and stood threateningly close to Joey who looked up at him nervously. “Because if you think you have any leverage against me, you’re mistaken. You come here to _my_ office, in _my_ company. If you had a problem with me, you should’ve taken care of it yesterday. _Do you_ have a problem, Wheeler?” 

Joey swallowed hard and shook his head. That vulnerable image of Kaiba that he had in his mind was gone—completely replaced by this Kaiba, the one that was silently threatening to break his neck. 

“Get out,” Kaiba said. 

Nodding, Joey backed toward the door. Kaiba stared at him until the door finally closed. Even as he walked out of the Kaiba Corp office building, Joey still felt those eyes on him. Frigid and spiteful.


	12. Playmate

He was at his desk signing off on another contract binding him and I2 together for four more years when the call came through. The head of his home cleaning staff informed him that the precious pup had left some personal belongings behind in the guestroom, but there was no address for them to send the items to. She asked if Seto knew of Joey Wheeler’s home address or if the items should be thrown away. Seto didn’t have to think long before he came to a conclusion. 

“Bring them to my office. I will take them to him myself.” Seto hung up and finished with his paperwork. It was another twenty minutes before his executive house keeper arrived with the plastic bag full of dirty clothes and pajamas. 

As he waited for the housekeeper to come, he’d told his secretary to find Joey Wheeler’s home address. She reported back to him that Joey lived on the poor side of town in a tiny little home. Always thorough, she also printed out a police record showing the number of time the cops had been called for various disturbances. Seto didn’t have time to read it over, but he already had a pretty good idea of what the list would include. 

Wasting no more time, Seto left his office and got into the car waiting for him downstairs. The driver had already been told Joey’s address and the drive there had been silent and short. 

“Wait for me,” Seto said when the driver stopped and opened the car door for him. “This won’t take long.” The man nodded and stood obediently next to the car as Seto approached the front door. 

As Seto prepared to knock on the rotting wood of Joey Wheeler’s front door, there was a sound from inside like glass being smashed. Seto pulled back his hand and listened more closely. Following the shattering of glass there came three heavy thuds in rapid succession, then a bellowing shout that had to belong to Joey’s father. After his voice came Joey’s, loud and pained. There was another slam that was chased by Joey’s harrowing cry, and Seto had heard enough.

Seto tested the knob and the door was unlocked. He pushed it open and growled in disgust when the stench of booze and decay hit his nose. The house wasn’t squalor, but it was definitely in disrepair. From the doorway, Seto could see through a dimly lit living room into a narrow kitchen. 

Seto approached it slowly, careful to keep his footfalls quiet. The sounds of more glass breaking were followed by the sounds of Joey yelling at his father—telling him to get away, to leave him alone. His father had him pinned in a corner. Joey was trying to ward off drunken punches aimed at his face, but he held back. He could easily have overpowered the drunk, but he chose not to. 

Then, with one strong fist, Joey was knocked onto the floor and kicked in the face by his father who bellowed at him for wasting space and “keeping him up worrying” all night by being gone. 

He kicked Joey one last time before Seto reacted, and Joey let out a sound far too close to a sob. Seto growled and grabbed the drunken, older man from behind and dragged him away from Joey without much resistance. The man screamed at him, unable to even slur a real sentence, and flailed as he tried to get Seto off of him. 

Seto easily pushed the man into the kitchen table behind him, which was where he’d intended to leave the fight, but the look the man gave him—a hateful, spiteful look that showed he had no remorse for beating and kicking his son—lit the fuse. 

The last thought Seto had before his vision turned to an angry smear of red was _No one kicks my dog. No one._

Joey shivered against the continually pulsating pain in the middle of his knee where his father had kicked him. His nose hurt from a particularly brutal punch, and he honestly didn’t remembered when he’d been shoved onto the floor, but his shoulder hurt from the fall. He didn’t know why his father stopped hitting him, but he could still hear the man yelling.

Still shaking, Joey cracked open his eyes when he heard his father fall over onto the kitchen table. Everything was blurred around the edges, but Joey sat up quickly when he realized there was another person standing in his kitchen. He blinked repeatedly, trying to get his vision to clear up as the shouting grew louder—another voice joining his father’s—and then his father was on the floor as well. 

“St-stop!” Joey called, not stammering because he was nervous, but because he was so taken aback. “Hey! That’s enough! You’re gonna kill him—quit!” Joey got to his feet, swaying in his disorientation. He stumbled over to _Seto Kaiba_ who was standing in his kitchen, beating his father into a pulp. “Kaiba, stop!”

Joey had to force his way between Kaiba and his father, just to get the bloodthirsty CEO to back down. Even then, Kaiba’s eyes were focused and harsh.

“Get out of my way, Wheeler,” Kaiba spat, as if this fight was personal. 

“He’s my dad,” Joey said, hoping it would bring Kaiba out of his rage. He didn’t know what was going on with the guy, but he rarely let his rage turn physical, and the last person Joey ever thought Kaiba would protect was him. He’d spent years making sure Joey knew just how much he hated him. Why was he now beating Joey’s father to a pulp in an attempt to protect him? “You won, alright? You won. You can stop!”

“Why are you protecting him?” Kaiba growled. “He doesn’t deserve to have you protecting him.”

“And you don’t deserve to go to jail for murdering him,” Joey said. “What are you even doing here? Go home!”

Kaiba glared at him and then turned his attention back to Joey’s father who was rolling back and forth on the floor, moaning in pain and confusion. 

“Come,” Kaiba said. Joey opened his mouth to tell Kaiba he wasn’t a dog, he didn’t go anywhere on command, but Kaiba grabbed him by the forearm and yanked him forward. Once his balance was compromised, Joey was easily dragged through his small house and shoved outside into the waiting car.

His first thought as the car door slammed once Kaiba was in the seat next to him was this was what it felt like to be kidnapped.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey was pulled into Kaiba’s mansion, still shaking from the shock he was in because of the pain and adrenaline. He’d tried to get Kaiba to stop the car and let him out—let him go check on his dad and make sure he was still breathing—but Kaiba silently refused. He wouldn’t speak; he wouldn’t even look at Joey. 

He was afraid of what was going to happen when they got into the mansion. He didn’t know if Kaiba was going to lock him in a room somewhere or if he was going start with all the grabbing and kissing again.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Joey yelled when he was pushed into a bedroom on the mansion’s third floor. And not just any bedroom—Seto freakin’ Kaiba’s bedroom suite. It was a bedroom with a living room in it, and never before had so many soft surfaces looked so threatening.

“You can’t let him treat you like that!” Kaiba yelled, his voice so full of rage that Joey backed down. Anger was only going to be matched with more anger. Joey would lose the fight, as much as he hated to admit it, and he couldn’t handle another battle. 

“You can’t break into my house and beat up my father like that,” Joey said in return. “It’s not your place to protect me.”

“It is now,” Kaiba said. “You obviously can’t do it yourself. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you fight him!?”

“He was just drunk—”

“He could’ve killed you! Your mouth is bleeding, you can’t walk—why did you let him do that?”

“He’s my dad—”

“That’s not an excuse!” Kaiba yelled, grabbing Joey by the forearms. He didn’t yank Joey forward or even squeeze. He just held on—almost as if trying to offer comfort but uncertain about how. “He can’t do that to you. You can’t let him do that to you anymore.”

Joey wanted to argue, but he had no excuses left. He shouldn’t let his dad get away with all he did, but he’d always had the idea that he’d move out soon and it wouldn’t be a problem anymore. That it would take care of itself. It was becoming apparent, however, that that wasn’t true. 

“He split your lip again,” Kaiba said, his eyes finally softening. Joey flinched when Kaiba wiped at the blood with his finger again, remembering how last time that had ended in a kiss. “I want my nurse to look you over. He could’ve broken your leg.”

“You have a nurse?” Joey said, the question somehow slipping out past the protestations that came to mind.

“Kaiba Corp has on-call doctors if I need them. You only need a nurse as far as I’m concerned. Sit down.” 

Joey looked at one of the couches in Kaiba’s bedroom living room suite and sank down onto the soft cushion. He kept expecting Kaiba to jump him, but it didn’t happen. 

( ) ( ) ( )

The nurse who looked over Joey’s cuts and scrapes was absurdly more polite than the other members of Kaiba’s personal staff. She smiled a lot and kept an upbeat attitude, even when applying stinging antiseptics to Joey’s wounds. She didn’t ask what happened—possibly believing her boss had done the damage—but commented on much more gruesome incidents she’d treated. 

After he was bandaged and his kicked knee was deemed “sore but not broken,” he was taken back to Kaiba’s personal bedroom suite where the multi-millionaire sat at his desk by the window working on his laptop.

“I’m fine, see?” Joey said, just to break the silence when Kaiba didn’t look at him. “So…can I go home now?”

“You’re not leaving,” Kaiba said casually, unwittingly reaffirming Joey’s feelings of being kidnapped. 

“Kaiba, you can’t keep me,” Joey said, his tone less than enthusiastic. 

“You can’t go home.”

“You almost killed my dad. I wanna go check on him.”

“He’s fine. I sent my on-call doctors to your house to make sure he didn’t throw up and choke on it. He’ll live.”

Joey was actually impressed. Part of him felt like it was a lie, but then he realized it would probably be bad for business if it leaked that Seto Kaiba beat a middle-aged man half to death in his own home. The doctors probably came with hush money that would no doubt be spent on more booze…

“Sit down, Wheeler. You shouldn’t be standing on your bad leg.”

“My leg is fine, Kaiba,” Joey said, looking around the impersonal bedroom. There was nothing in the room that distinguished it from the guestroom Joey had stayed in. The only personal effects were Kaiba’s clothes, the books on the shelves, and one photo of Mokuba on the desk. Everything else looked like stylish props. 

“You need to sit down,” Kaiba repeated, not bothering with a reason this time.

“I want to go home. We don’t have to work on our presentation anymore, so there’s no reason for me to even be here.”

“You’re here because I want you to be. Sit down.”

“Kaiba—” Joey flinched as Kaiba stood up from the desk. He should’ve just run for the door. He knew nothing good would come from standing there and subjecting himself to Kaiba’s twisted whims. Kaiba walked up to him and stood so close it made Joey want to back away. But once those eyes were on him, Joey was stricken. “What do you want from me?” Joey asked, shaking his head and looking at Kaiba with a pleading look, trying to silently beg him to stop this weird, twisted game.

Kaiba lifted a hand and began stroking Joey’s cheek, even when Joey sighed and turned his eyes away. 

So they were back to this again? Was Kaiba ever going to say what was going on?—admit that he’d started taking crack or acid and this was all a bad trip?

“You _hate_ me,” Joey said, remembering Duelist Kingdom when Kaiba had literally thrown him to the ground and started all of the dog insults. “Why are you trying to be nice now?”

“Because you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours! Quit it with that already! It’s not an answer.”

Kaiba started smirking and Joey inwardly cringed. The hand stroking his cheek slowly slid to the back of his head and pulled him forward. Once again, Kaiba pressed his lips against Joey’s, trying to be careful of the fresh wound. Joey doubted he’d ever get a real answer about why Kaiba had taken a sudden interest in him that extended beyond harassing him. Seto Kaiba was used to having everything he wanted, and one day he must’ve woken up and realized he wanted a piece of Joey Wheeler.

In all of the time he’d known Kaiba, Joey had never really thought about having him in the ways Kaiba was proposing. When someone hated him, Joey usually accepted it and moved on—especially when other guys hated him. He was used to fighting. He wasn’t used to warding off sexual advances—and especially not advances made by pretty-boy Kaiba.

He realized that Kaiba wasn’t going to back off, just as he realized that when he went home the only thing waiting for him was the reek of booze and another few kicks and punches. Honestly, Joey would rather be anywhere than at home—and if Kaiba was offering, who was going to turn down three big meals a day and a huge bed at night?

And Kaiba was sort of manageable when he was being nice. Tolerance could turn to a friendship, couldn’t it? Kaiba was a jerk, sure, but only because he had to be for work. No one would respect him if he were a shy, modest businessman. 

Joey sighed and tilted his head slightly, giving Kaiba access to what he wanted. Immediately, Kaiba let out a pleased groan and started kissing harder, wrapping his arm around Joey’s waist and jerking him closer. 

It wasn’t so much a submission in Joey’s mind as it was an experiment—at least that was what he told himself. Maybe he should’ve realized what he was getting himself into before Kaiba backed him into the wall. The kiss became heated more quickly than Joey had anticipated, and as much as he hated to see it that way—it really did happen too fast for him to register it. 

One moment Kaiba was kissing him on the mouth, then the next Joey was turned around with his chest pressed into the wall. Both of Kaiba’s hands were on Joey’s hips, rubbing them and sliding up his side under his shirt. Joey shuddered under his touches, and gasped when Kaiba started kissing him on the side of his neck.

Several times Joey tried to ask Kaiba what he was trying to do—even though he knew exactly what he was doing—but all Kaiba did was shush him and act more bold. Joey tried to pull away when Kaiba’s fingers started toying with the button of his jeans, but Kaiba just held him tighter and worked faster. 

Joey swallowed hard when Kaiba had his jeans undone and began pushing them down off his hips. 

“I-I don’t think—” Joey tried to grab the waistband of his jeans before the slid down over the curve of his thigh, but Kaiba immediately shushed him and pushed harder to get the fabric out of the way of his hands. “Kaiba, I don’t think you really want to do thi—” Joey’s words turned into a sharp hiss when Kaiba’s hand snaked down the front of his boxers and gripped him firmly by the cock. After that, the only thought in his mind was “this is really happening. Oh god, this is actually happening.”

Seto smirked into Joey’s neck, nuzzling him and at the same time relishing his scent under the coppery smell of blood. He had his pup right where he wanted him. Joey was squirming under Seto’s touch, unresisting and completely pliant. He let Seto do what he wanted with him, his only protestations coming from nervousness—shyness. 

When Seto wrapped his hand around Joey’s half-hard cock, he was surprised at how eager Joey’s following moan sounded. He expected more resistance or to have the dog snap and turn to bite him—but Joey just leaned his head back onto Seto’s shoulder and panted. Once he worked Joey’s cock to full hardness, Seto chose to be a bit more daring. He pushed Joey’s jeans down a little father and used to his foot to get his pup to spread his feet a little wider. 

Joey let out a choked scream when, all of a sudden—with no forewarning whatsoever—Kaiba pressed one of his fingers inside of him. He didn’t know how to respond or what to say. He’d been with a few girls in the past, but he’d never messed around with any guys. He hadn’t even really thought about it in detail, but when his mind did wander, he never saw himself being the one on the receiving end.

He wanted to squirm away, to tell Kaiba that this was moving too quickly and he didn’t think it was right for either of them, but Kaiba just kept stroking him and moving that finger slowly in and out. When Joey did try to speak, Kaiba would start kissing and sucking his neck, as if to make sure he didn’t speak a word of protest. 

After a few minutes, Kaiba worked a second finger in alongside the first. Joey hissed, slightly out of pain and a bit more out of humiliation. He felt his cheeks burn red, especially when Kaiba started to quietly laugh in his ear. The slight pain was too quickly replaced by a bolt of pleasure when Kaiba’s fingers pressed against something which almost left Joey on his knees if not for Kaiba’s hold on him. 

Once he found that spot, Kaiba kept his fingers pressed up against it. In a matter of seconds he had Joey twitching and writhing against the wall where he was pinned. Kaiba started rubbing on that one sweet spot with his fingers in time with his hand that kept pumping Joey’s leaking cock. 

To think that Kaiba—Seto Kaiba, of all people—had him pinned to a wall and was practically forcefully pleasuring him was so bizzare. He’d never pegged Kaiba as the generous type. If anything, Joey expected Kaiba to take his own pants down and start ravaging him any second, but it never happened. Kaiba seemed content to turn Joey into a pathetic, whimpering and needy mess. 

Seto sighed into Joey’s neck, taking in every noise the blonde pup made. He could feel Joey’s muscles fluttering around his fingers as he drove them deeper while still making sure to keep pressure on that one spot he knew would drive the poor boy mad. The hand he had pumping Joey’s cock was completely smeared with precum which dripped down onto his bunched up jeans as well as the floor. 

When Joey was close, Seto could tell by the hitching of his breath and the way his puppy’s shoulders began to spasm as if he were trying to pull away. In response, Seto rubbed the tips of his fingers against Joey’s prostate even faster, not satisfied until Joey’s legs were shaking and he had to lean against the wall for support. 

Seto began pumping Joey’s cock faster, drunk off the quiet moans of pleasure coming from his wounded pup’s throat. After getting attacked by his father, Joey deserved a release. And when that release finally came, Joey’s seed splattering against the wall and his body shaking in Seto’s arms, there was no doubt in Seto’s mind that his pet appreciated it.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey found himself kneeling on the carpeted floor, pants bunched up around his knees, panting. When Kaiba let go of him, his legs were useless and he slumped against the wall. A few strands of his hair unfortunately got stuck in the mess slowly sliding down the wall, but he didn’t even have enough energy to fall away from it. 

Once Kaiba was finished with him, he just walked off. Joey tried looking over his shoulder to see where he went, but it became pointless when he heard the sound of a sink running from some unseen bathroom. When he finished washing his hands—a feat which took almost five minutes at least—Kaiba returned and hauled Joey back up to his feet. 

“You need a shower,” he said, kissing Joey firmly on the cheek and then walking over to his desk where he sat down and returned to working on his laptop as if nothing had even happened.

“I don’t have any clean clothes to change into,” Joey stammered, awkwardly pulling up his boxers and jeans. 

“You can wear mine. We’re…relatively the same size.” 

Joey didn’t bother to mention that Kaiba was obviously taller than he was and anything of Kaiba’s that he wore would make him look like a dwarf. Joey had learned quickly that it didn’t do any good to argue with Kaiba. He was used to getting what he wanted—able to pay any price at all—and Joey was just another one of those things. How long it would be before Kaiba lost interest and moved on to a new thing was still open for interpretation. It would happen though. Joey was sure of it.

Anyone used to having whatever he wanted was bound to get bored quickly and move on…

With a sigh, Joey wandered toward the bathroom adjoining Kaiba’s bedroom suite.

“Wheeler,” Kaiba said, just as Joey was about to go through the doorway.

“What?” Joey asked, unable to hide the negative feelings that were starting to eat away at him. As soon as he was out of Kaiba’s grasp he’d felt used—manipulated and weak.

“You’re sleeping in here tonight.”

“Why?” Joey asked, rolling his eyes. When he looked over at Kaiba, the brunette was staring at him. He expected Kaiba to say something along the lines of ‘because I want you to,’ but the CEO surprised him.

“Because it’s the best room in the house, and you deserve the best.”

It was so out of character for him to be so…blatantly affectionate. Even his tone sounded sincere, like he really wanted Joey there not just for his company, but because he felt Joey had somehow earned it.

“You’re goin’ crazy, Kaiba,” Joey said, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door. Kaiba mumbled something, but the wooden door muffled it. It wasn’t until Joey was standing under the stream of water that he realized how badly he wanted to know what had been said.


	13. Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The middle bit of this chapter is actually the last bits of a pseudo-chapter I wrote for this story back in 2011. I reworked it a bit to give it some space, but it’s all new material from here on out!

The next morning, Joey made sure to make it to the dining room for breakfast before Kaiba. After the CEO’s alarm clock went off at three-thirty in the morning, Joey had found a little bit more respect for the loonybird. Kaiba didn’t waste a second after the alarm started beeping. As soon as it woke him up, he got out of bed, took his shower, and then just left the bedroom to go work in his office. He started work at four-thirty in the morning—it was no wonder he was always rude and crabby.

Breakfast was served at six-thirty on the dot, making it three hours after Kaiba got up that he finally got to eat anything. That combined with the sleepless nights completely explained why Kaiba was a jerk to everyone at school. He was hungry, tired, and already stressed from work before he even set foot in the school building. 

Mokuba, on the other hand, who woke up around six and ate breakfast at six-thirty with semi-wet hair, was always energetic and in a good mood. He was also usually early to the dining room as well, snacking on whatever he could get in his mouth. The boy definitely had an appetite that Joey could appreciate. 

“Hey, Mokuba,” Joey said, sneaking into the dining room at six-fifteen. 

“Hey,” Mokuba said, mouth full of some unknown food. “What happened to your face?”

“Eh, it doesn’t matter. I got a question for you though—is your brother on some new medication or somethin’? He’s actin’ really weird lately.”

“Is he?” Mokuba said, his tone extremely sarcastic. 

“Yeah, he is. Is there a reason why that you guys ain’t tellin’ me?”

“Well, he’s got you here now,” Mokuba said, as if that were really an acceptable answer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joey cried. “Kaiba’s actin’ weird! Is he on somethin’ or not?”

“No, he’s not on any medication,” Mokuba said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s been hung up on you for years. Now that you’re around I don’t have to hear him complain about you anymore. It’s nice.”

“How do you get him being hung up on me out of him _complaining_ about me?”

“Because if he actually hated you, he wouldn’t talk about you all the time. Like Yugi. The only time Seto says his name is if there’s another tournament coming up. As for you, he can’t even work with his designer on a new coat without bringing you up. Even the _designer_ is getting tired of hearing about you all the time.”

“If he likes me so much why does he gotta work so hard to be a jerk?” Joey grumbled. Mokuba made it sound so obvious, but it really hadn’t been that clear. Kaiba had always made it apparent that he _hated_ Joey. 

“Because it’s not acceptable for Seto to like another guy—let alone _you._ ”

“And what’s wrong with me!?” Joey asked, huffing. 

“You’re a low-class mutt with no manners,” came Kaiba’s voice from the doorway behind Joey’s seat. The blonde stiffened and slowly turned around to face Kaiba. He looked so different than he had the night before. His mask was back on—the one he used to hide all of his human emotions except for his pride. There was nothing left of the seductive, sensual person who’d had Joey trapped against a wall the night before. Not one single thing…

“And you’re a real prince charming, ya know that?” Joey grumbled. He didn’t know what to do about the whole situation. He wanted Mokuba to say Kaiba was suffering from a nervous break or started doing drugs—anything to make this whole thing make sense. 

“Whatever. Sometime today you need to make up a list of meals you don’t care for so my cooks don’t waste their time on things you won’t eat.” He said it with no emotion, sitting down at his seat beside Mokuba just as a servant entered the room and served a mug of coffee to him. 

“And why would I do that?” Joey asked, looking across the table that was stacked with plates and bowls of fresh fruit and whatever pastry Mokuba kept shoving down his throat.

“Because if you’re going to be staying here, I don’t want you to waste anymore of my money,” Kaiba said. Mokuba growled and leaned back in his chair, looking exasperated and annoyed.

“I’m not stayin’ here, Kaiba. I have my own house.”

“And you’re even dumber than I thought if you think I’m going to let you go back to that rat’s nest.”

“And you’re an idiot if you think I’m going to stay here with a jerk like you,” Joey snapped. For a second, Kaiba looked hurt. Then he was back to his emotionless state. 

“I don’t want to talk about this over breakfast,” Kaiba said. He was staring at Mokuba when he said it, but his brother didn’t notice. He was watching the servants who entered with plates of food. Joey could tell that what Kaiba really meant was “We’re not discussing this in front of Mokuba.”

“Well we’re gonna talk about it. You can’t act all nice to me one minute, moneybags, and then start insulting me the next. Don’t act like you care if you don’t!” There was more he wanted to say, more questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t bring that kind of stuff up in front of Kaiba’s kid brother—he didn’t want Mokuba traumatized for life. 

“Obviously I care, Wheeler. If I didn’t, I would’ve left you to die at your father’s house.”

“He wasn’t gonna kill me! Don’t act so dramatic.”

“Right. He was just going to use you as a punching bag until you quit moving. You think I should’ve left you there?—Or let you go back so it can happen again? So it can be worse since you got away the last time? Are you really dumb enough to believe that he won’t have it out for you? You threatened his power. Now he’ll have to take it back.”

“He wouldn’t have to take it back if you hadn’t broken into my house and beat him up,” Joey growled.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’d stand by and let him hurt you.”

“Why? All you do is call me names—it’s the same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Kaiba said, almost sounding humored as he shook his head and started eating his breakfast. 

“How would you know?” Joey spat. “You’re nothin’ but a spoiled rich boy. No one even talks back to you. How would you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of half the stuff you say to me?”

“You think living with my step father was some kind of a pleasure cruise? Compared to Gozaburo Kaiba, your father is a saint.”

Joey wanted to argue, but something in Kaiba’s eyes made him think twice. It was that haunted look, resurfacing on top of all that coldness. If what Kaiba said was even remotely true, then there was much more to the CEO that what met the eye. Joey knew Gozaburo was far from kind, he knew that he pushed Kaiba harder than what was appropriate for a kid, but what more was there? There had to be something else that made Kaiba so…angry, so defensive. It was like he couldn’t bear to hear that someone else had a struggle harder than his own. 

Joey’s father yelled at him—beat him—but Joey was still able to smile. It made him wonder, what the hell had Gozaburo done to make Kaiba so _resentful_ toward everything and everyone? 

Pity must’ve crossed Joey’s face when he realized that there were more layers of abuse than just hitting and screaming. As soon as he had the thought, Kaiba’s eyes went dark and hateful. 

“Don’t think you’re the only one who’s had a hard life, Wheeler. I earned everything I have. If you think any of this was handed to me—”

“Then I’m an idiot,” Joey interjected, sighing in defeat.

“Then you’re blind,” Kaiba finished. Joey didn’t know if Kaiba chose to avoid a direct insult because he actually felt guilty for being so mean or if he really attached more of a meaning to blindness than ignorance. 

Kaiba finished the rest of his meal in silence, and Joey didn’t have anything to say either. Mokuba kept giving him dirty looks down the table, as if Joey had committed some unspeakable offense. He guessed making Kaiba remember the man he hated the most was probably a less than acceptable thing to do…

When Kaiba walked off to finish a few more things for work, Joey stood up from the table and followed him. They needed to talk before any more time passed, and it wasn’t possible to discuss anything in front of Mokuba. 

“Why are you following me?” Kaiba muttered when he realized that Joey was only a few paces behind him as he approached his home office.

“I wanna talk to you,” Joey said.

“Fine, but make it quick.”

Joey felt his stomach flip. Kaiba made him anxious. It was almost impossible to believe that this cold, stoic guy was the same person who’d pushed Joey into the wall the night before with his hand down his pants… 

“What do you want, Wheeler?” Kaiba pressed when Joey took too long to answer.

“It’s…it’s about my dad,” Joey said, trying to find the easiest way to bring up his real concern. He had a feeling Kaiba wouldn’t actually give him an answer if he asked, but he was going to try anyway. 

“I already told you you’re not moving back into that house. It’s not safe,” Kaiba said absently as he unlocked his office door.

“Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is, alright?”

“I found you on the floor. You were letting him kick you in the face. If you don’t consider that bad, things are worse in that house than I thought.”

“I don’t know what you thought, but you seem to have had a lot of assumptions about my dad before you ever even saw him.”

“I saw your bruises,” Kaiba said, not even looking at Joey. “I saw the way you limp in the hallways at school. So tell me, if kicking you in the face wasn’t bad, what else does that man do to you?” Then Kaiba shot him a look, an all-knowing and piercing gaze. 

“Not what you’re thinkin’, Kaiba,” Joey said. “He hits me a lot, you’re right about that, but that’s all there is. Nothin’…. Nothin’ _weird_ is going on between him and me.”

“Nothing _weird?_ ” Kaiba asked, his eyes narrowing. 

Joey sighed and looked over at the clock on the wall. There wasn’t much time left before he had to leave for school—in a car separate from Kaiba’s of course—but the conversation wasn’t going anywhere. It wouldn’t be so bad if Joey didn’t feel so anxious. He couldn’t imagine sitting all day just waiting and hoping to have Kaiba make time to hear him out. After school, Kaiba went to work. Then he ate dinner if he had time and did more work… There just wasn’t any more time…

“Look, we don’t have time to dance around it, so I’m just gonna say it—”

“Say what? This whole conversation has been a waste of time,” Kaiba muttered, reading over a piece of paper on top of his desk.

“You’ve got a lot of assumptions about me and my dad and what’s goin’ on in my house. There’s no point lyin’ to you after yesterday. He beats me up—He doesn’t…he doesn’t care about me like he’s supposed to, but that’s the end of it.” Joey chanced a glance at Kaiba’s face and saw that the brunette was giving him a particularly dark and yet still unreadable stare. It was obvious that Kaiba was unhappy, but whether or not he was anxious, sad, or angry was impossible to detect. “I… I have this feeling, Kaiba, that you have some knowledge about what I go through at home.” 

Joey felt he might make more progress if he put more of the emphasis on himself as the victim instead of Kaiba. If he asked Kaiba if Gozaburo beat him up, Kaiba would probably just say something snide.

“I would think that’s obvious by this point in our relationship, Wheeler. Get to the point. Your car leaves in five minutes,” Kaiba said. He turned his focus back to his paper, but Joey noticed that he was now holding it tighter, crumpling the page between his fingers. He was anxious, or nervous, and Joey didn’t know if it was because of where their conversation was going or because Kaiba tried out the word “relationship” to describe whatever awkward, twisted thing that was forming between them.

“But the thing is…I think what you went through was worse,” Joey said, trying to think quickly and get his point across, but without saying anything backhanded or insensitive. 

Kaiba was silent for a long time, staring through the paper in his hand seemingly just to avoid looking at Joey or showing any emotion.

“I’m no tryin’ ta make you relive anything or upset you. I just…I wanna know.”

“Your car is going to leave soon. If you want to make it to school, you should go _now._ ”

Joey sighed and felt his shoulders droop. He’d gotten about as far as he’d expected, but it was still disappointing. Kaiba had seen him in two of his weakest and most vulnerable moments. He just wanted Kaiba to show some of that same openness. 

Apparently, that was too much to ask…

( ) ( ) ( )

Seto could remember feeling horribly ashamed—that was the jist of it. He’d felt weak, inferior, repulsed, and greatly, deeply ashamed. He felt everything that the high school health classes kept telling him he wasn’t supposed to.

Bullshit…what did they know?

Sure, _women_ aren’t supposed to feel weak or ashamed because women are _naturally_ the weaker sex. They’re supposed to have a man to protect them—that’s why husbands were designed. As for their shame, well that’s just foolishness. The only ones who should be ashamed are…

Men like himself.

Aside from the shame, he could remember that night. (The day had simply been one of those busy, monotonous ones that bled in with every other day. Nothing stood out, no bad reports given back by his professors. Just an average day. It was the night that had gone wrong.) He had felt confident that night. He’d felt like everything was going perfectly and according to plan. Every good feeling that ever existed, he was sure he’d felt as he slid between the sheets.

He had earned the right to sleep that night—he had been proficient and deserving of that one luxury.

He’d been on top of the world that night…

For at least an hour.

He’d probably only had his eyes closed for ten minutes—trying to get his brain to relax, as per usual—when he heard his bedroom door open and the beam of light flashed over him. 

Immediately, Seto had sat up and looked towards the doorway. For a moment he’d feared that he actually had slept, and slept in late without knowing it. However, a quick glance towards the digital clock across the room said otherwise.

Seto didn’t remember the exact time, but he knew that there was no reason for his step father to be standing in the doorway after just having told him to go to bed and that he deserved a good night’s rest.

“Is something wrong?” Seto asked, his voice a bark. He didn’t like it when anyone went back on their word, and barging in on him as he tried to sleep after being granted the privilege was definitely going against Gozaburo’s word.

“Be quiet.” Seto flinched and obeyed, falling silent as his stepfather entered the room and closed the door without turning on the light. He felt panic rise in his chest, but didn’t understand why. Still drunk on his euphoria, he didn’t comprehend—no, _couldn’t_ realize the oddness of the situation.

Looking back on it, Seto felt even worse. He not only felt ashamed, he felt stupid. Thirteen-year-olds know what rape is, especially him. Especially since he had lived in an orphanage where “violent night-activities between the boys” was one of the first things he’d been warned about upon entering. 

How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have noticed that something was wrong? He didn’t even _think_ until Gozaburo had made it to the side of his bed and had fisted his hand in his hair. And then, what could he stammer out?

“What have I done that’s upset you, Father?” The fear didn’t show through in his voice, he’d learned never to allow it that freedom. He remembered asking the question as blankly as he would have if asking what his day’s schedule was.

“Shut up!” Gozaburo had yelled. Seto didn’t remember exactly what the man had said after that, but he remembered being ordered to go to his dresser and “show me what you’ve been hiding from me!” Seto had felt horrified because he wasn’t hiding anything—he didn’t even think the terror he would have felt if he _had_ been hiding something would have trumped the fear he felt then. At least if he’d had something he would be in control. 

He could have offered it up and be spared the beating…

But all he had was his deck, and he was sure that Gozaburo wouldn’t be that enraged over a deck of cards. What did Gozaburo think was there, he’d wondered. Weapons? Pilfered files? Condoms? Drugs? What?

He’d dared to glance up at the man once while proving that he had nothing hidden in any of his drawers and had been so overwhelmed by the look of sheer hatred on the man he’d called father’s face.

“Where is it?” Gozaburo had hissed, grabbing Seto by his hair again and shoving him towards the writing desk on the opposite side of the room. After it had turned up empty of whatever Gozaburo thought Seto had—stolen jewels? Stolen money?—Seto had suffered a beating. Probably the worst he’d gotten from the man since adoption.

He’d grown accustom to slaps across the face, punches to the gut, degrading whippings…he wasn’t used to fists to his face or kicks to the ribs. Gozaburo had refrained from all “illegal” acts of violence against his stepson, probably in fear of the kid taking legal action. So long as he just slapped him in the face or whipped him, he was abiding by the law and Seto would look like another whiny, spoiled child.

Gozaburo had asked him where it was once again after shoving him against the average-sized bookcase in the corner. Several books toppled on top of him, but one, Seto strictly remembered, hit him beneath his eye and gave him the black eye he’d had the next day. 

Through the whole ordeal, Gozaburo never aimed for Seto’s face except for to slap him. Gozaburo knew how to strike without leaving a mark…

Through the whole ordeal, Seto didn’t once scream, didn’t once sob, didn’t once tear up. He didn’t beg for mercy—he only begged to know what it was that Father wanted.

Gozaburo, for whatever reason, had stooped down and picked up one of the books that had fallen. Seto recognized it as the reference book where he hid his deck and bowed his head. Gozaburo noted the gesture and, with a sickening smirk, pulled open the book and tilted it towards the window to catch the outside light well enough to see. There were security lights burning all night. It was never very hard to see around the rooms at night.

“Cards,” Gozaburo had growled in disbelief. He tossed the book, still open, at his stepson, striking the boy’s shoulder as he daringly leaned out of the way. “You waste my time!” He was grabbed again, beaten again, slammed against the bookcase again, and ordered to go through all of the books and present _it._

Seto had wanted to cry from pain, frustration, and sheer terror, but he didn’t. That was the key thing. He did not cry. He stayed attentive, he kept an ear trained on Gozaburo as he took down, opened, and flipped through each and every book. When it came down to the last one, he had already stiffened from the anticipation of the oncoming blows and didn’t bother to avoid them.

He had been so stupid, and now he was so ashamed…the point of the lesson was to fight him off, to get away…Every businessman needs to know not to submit to assault of any kind.

Why had he accepted the beatings? The false accusations? Because he was feeling affectionate that night? Because he thought he deserved to be punished? Because he feared what would happen if he did run and got caught?

Because he was a weak, pathetic, worthless mongrel. That was why he submitted. That’s what left him ashamed and humiliated. 

“Hid it in the mattress didn’t you!?” Tossed, this time towards the bed. Seto collided with the frame and felt something in his spine shift uncomfortably and cried out involuntarily. “You’re making this worse than it has to be, Seto!” So he’d gone through the process again—proving there was nothing in his sheets, nothing in his pillow, no holes in the mattress where things could be hidden. Nothing. 

But this time, when Gozaburo grabbed him, he broke. 

He was bleeding from his mouth, a direct relation to the blows he’d received to his ribs and gut no doubt, he felt light-headed and nauseous. 

He broke.

He cried for mercy—like he wasn’t permitted to.

“Father, please, I don’t have anything! Believe me, Father, please! Please! Stop. Please stop!” He’d begged. 

Had he really expected Gozaburo to obey his request? Seto didn’t remember—there was no way that he could. His mind was in a panic, processing too many things at once. What could he have? What did Gozaburo want? Who had planted this seed of suspicion? Why? Had he already done this to Mokuba? Was Mokuba hurt? If Gozaburo didn’t stop soon, would he die? All over this mysterious _it?_

“Someone told you I was going to come looking for it, didn’t they?” Seto had gasped. In his mind, he envisioned himself going through every room in the Kaiba mansion until he found something, being beaten each time nothing turned up. “I’ve checked every other room you frequent. It _has_ to be with _you.”_

“Father, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seto remembered whimpering pathetically. He’d been slapped then, and shoved backwards until he toppled over his bed which he’d been ordered to put back and remake to _prove_ that nothing was hidden in the sheets.

“It has to be on you…” Seto hadn’t liked the tone of Gozaburo’s voice, or the order that followed. He should have run. He should have been strong. But, instead, he obeyed the order and took of his night shirt, his hands shaking while he did it. Gozaburo had taken the shirt, proved to himself that it had no hidden pockets, and tossed it aside. “Pants.”

“Father! Please!” It was humiliating enough, being without his shirt, but to be stripped of his pants as well—and when nothing was there, he knew what followed. “I don’t have anything!” Despite his pleas, Seto remembered, he’d chosen to obey the orders rather than to run. 

Why didn’t he run? Why? Because he was a stupid, worthless dog incapable of going against his master’s orders! That’s why! Because he’d been stupid! He’d been weak!

He hadn’t taken off his boxers himself. He remembered that and it was the only thing he could feel proud of. He hadn’t stooped that low. He’d disobeyed…at least a little.

“You think you can outsmart me, don’t you? You think I’ll value your personal privacy over my laws?” Seto had fought then—he’d fought hard. He’d struggled, he’d gotten pinned, and he failed to protect himself.

He’d deserved it.

He’d been so stupid, and so weak.

When his boxers had been torn away, he kept from screaming, but when he was prevented from even attempting to cover himself he became frantic. He’d struggled, but Gozaburo prevailed. 

When Gozaburo forced him to roll over onto his hands and knees on the bed, however, he’d screamed because he knew what came next. He’d attempted to get free, but Gozaburo had him by the hips. He’d thought if he kept struggling, he would eventually get loose, but he’d failed—Gozaburo thought faster. He pinned Seto’s legs with his knees and forced Seto’s head into the mattress with his hand to keep him from rising. 

“Don’t!” Seto pleaded, still struggling. He felt as if his neck would break if he fought harder, but the assault that would follow if he didn’t get free seemed worse. “Please! I really don’t have anything!” Seto’s voice cracked into a loud groan as Gozaburo pressed the fingers of his free hand against him.

And that was where the memory broke. 

Seto tried to force it out of his head, trying to think of anything else at all. He didn’t want to relive that night or the dozens of others that were like it. For a long time he’d tried to make himself forget, but that was when the nightmares started. It was like his brain was determined to torture him.

When forgetting didn’t work, he tried to desensitize himself. He forced himself to replay the events of so many horrible nights over and over, but for some reason even that didn’t numb the pain. Time had healed the sorrow following his parents’ deaths, his and Mokuba’s abandonment at that orphanage… But time wasn’t healing this. 

He didn’t want to think that maybe this was because it was the first time he was trying to deal with his pain on his own. Mokuba had always been with him, sharing in it. Seto had to support him and make sure he was alright. 

But Mokuba wasn’t involved in this. Gozaburo had little to no interest in Mokuba. His focus had been on Seto—using Seto, _breaking_ Seto. And that wasn’t a weight Seto could put on Mokuba’s shoulders. Mokuba was frightened enough being in the strange house. It looked like a nice home, but it was horrible for both of them. And how would Seto have even turned to Mokuba for support? He was just a kid.

Even now, Mokuba didn’t know the full extent of the things Seto had been put through. He probably had an idea, but as long as there was doubt Seto still felt safe in his secrets.

But now those secrets weren’t so safe. He’d dragged that mutt Wheeler into his life—into his issues. For some reason he’d convinced himself it was okay to grab the dog and do what he wanted with it… He hated himself now because he knew if he went back to being cold and distant, he would be no better than Gozaburo had been. 

Joey deserved respect now. Seto couldn’t be as harsh or cruel. If he did, he would hurt Joey worse than he ever wanted to hurt another human being. Name calling was that much worse when the physical aspects of romance got involved. After what Seto had done to the poor kid, he could barely even look Joey in the eye in fear of getting mad and saying something hurtful.

The last thing he wanted, no matter how crazy he knew he was for having any feelings at all toward the scrappy, blonde mutt, was to become like his stepfather.

He couldn’t handle this. There were too many thoughts in his head—and too many things that needed tended to that didn’t have to do with his attachment to his blonde dog. The car had already taken Joey to school… They were supposed to give their presentation today, but Seto didn’t really feel up to standing next to the boy in public. Not now.

Not with the thoughts in his head…

And besides, the teachers were practically forced to accept his constant absences, and it would be a fun distraction to have his pup mad at him for skipping out on their presentation once again.


	14. Grave Robber

Joey sat on the roof for lunch with Yugi, Tristan, and Téa. He was still grumbling about Kaiba skipping their class again today, and complaining about how the uniform he was wearing—Kaiba’s uniform, although he’d yet to admit that to his friends—was too large and made him look scrawny. 

In class, the teacher told him if Kaiba didn’t come tomorrow, Joey would have to present on his own… He had a feeling Kaiba wasn’t going to come—Kaiba was holding out on him because he knew it would make Joey come back to his mansion in order to confront him. 

“So how’s it going at Kaiba’s?” Tristan asked when Joey had mumbled to himself for too long.

“At Kaiba’s? What do you mean?” Téa asked. “I thought he made you meet him at his office.”

“He really let you in his mansion?” Yugi asked. 

Joey had kept Yugi and Téa out of the loop when it came to the weird relationship with Kaiba. At first it was because he didn’t want Yugi to get worried about Kaiba bullying him, and also because he really just didn’t want people making a big deal out it. He’d thought he project would be a simple “get in, get it over with” kind of process. He’d never expected that Kaiba would start kissing him and trying to defend and protect him.

“Didn’t he tell you? He’s been _staying_ at Kaiba’s mansion,” Tristan said. Joey growled at him and shook his head.

“Wow,” Téa exclaimed. “And you mean to tell me you two _haven’t_ tried killing each other yet.”

“It’s…It’s weird. I think Kaiba’s on some drugs or somethin’ because he’s actually been nice to me for a change,” Joey said. He didn’t want everyone to know about the private things that were happening, things he’d only told Tristan out of sheer desperation. He felt the last person Kaiba would want knowing that he had some sort of a crush on Joey was Yugi—his arch rival.

“Do you really think he’s taking something to make him act nicer?” Yugi asked, actually sounding worried. 

“I don’t know,” Joey said, sighing. During their talk at breakfast, Mokuba had made it sound like Kaiba had a crush on him. Kaiba had been fighting it and fighting it, but apparently having Joey near him—near him and alone—for an extended period of time had completely destroyed his self-control. Mokuba had said Kaiba was so mean to Joey because he liked him and because it wasn’t acceptable for Kaiba to be attracted to another guy. It made sense. For Kaiba, image was everything. If his investors or the public no longer liked him, his company would start sinking. And Kaiba loved his company—it was how he provided for Mokuba, the person he loved more than life itself.

“You’re being weird, Joey,” Téa said. “Did something happen between you guys?”

“I’d say so,” Tristan said, laughing even though Joey shot him a death glare. Why was Tristan trying to drag it all out in the open? Didn’t he know Kaiba would kill Joey if he found out he was gossiping about him?

“What happened?” Yugi asked.

“I dunno,” Joey said. “We…we talked about some stuff—”

“You’re hiding something,” Téa said, tapping her foot impatiently. “Kaiba doesn’t just start up friendly conversations with people. Especially not you. He practically hates you. So what made that change?”

Joey sighed and started scratching at his head anxiously.

“I don’t know, you guys. At first he was mean to me like always, then he just got…close.” Joey didn’t exactly know the right way to describe it. He wasn’t going to say Kaiba picked on him until he decided to kiss him, and then keep kissing him, and then break into his house to beat his dad up, and then push him against the wall and do sex stuff with him. No way. Even Tristan didn’t know about the sex stuff, or that Joey had spent the previous night in the bed of Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corp. 

He didn’t know how to tell them about that, if or when that time ever came. 

“He showed up at my house last night,” Joey said, trying to go with the prime example of Kaiba’s change of heart toward him—his shift from hating to protecting. “My dad and I were fightin’ again, and he was winning. Then, the next thing I know, Kaiba’s in my house beating up my dad to get him off me.”

“Really?” Téa asked, staring in wide-eyed shock. “How did he even find your house? What was he doing there?”

“I’m… I’m not sure. I think I forgot some stuff at his house when I stayed over to work on the project—”

“How many times has he had you stay over!?” Téa asked. 

“Uh—a few,” Joey said, forgetting that it wasn’t the most normal thing in the world to have a guy everyone thought hated Joey make Joey sleep in his house. “But the real point is, after Kaiba found out about my dad, he started to be a little bit nicer.”

“It’s no secret his stepfather wasn’t exactly kind to him,” Yugi said quietly. “He sympathizes with you, Joey. That doesn’t make him crazy.”

_It does if you knew what else he was doing,_ Joey thought.

“The thing is, he doesn’t want to let me go home,” Joey muttered. “I tried to leave last night and, long story short, he practically made it impossible.”

“You’re not the type of person to let other people make you do things you don’t want to do, Joey,” Téa said. “Something else is going on here, and I think it has to do with you sleeping at his house and wearing his clothes.”

“Ah, come on, Téa!” Joey said, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I couldn’t go home after he beat my dad up and I didn’t have my uniform with me. I had no choice but to borrow one of his.”

“Come on, Joey, just spit it out,” Tristan said, grinning. Joey wanted to punch him, but didn’t have the energy. 

“Spit what out?” Yugi asked. “Did something else happen?”

“From what I’ve heard,” Tristan said, smiling at Joey with a malicious glint in his eyes. “Kaiba’s got a thing for old Joey here.”

“A thing? Like…a fixation?” Téa asked. “I mean, he’s obviously stalking him if he shows up at his house for no reason just in time to be the hero.”

“Yeah, fixation’s a good word,” Joey mumbled. It was really more like an obsession. 

“Come on, Joey—just tell them. It’ll be funny,” Tristan said, trying to force Joey to talk about the kisses. Despite his good humor, it was _not_ funny! Kaiba’s feelings weren’t _funny._

So Kaiba had a crush on him. Even if Kaiba had made a point to bully him, Joey didn’t want his friends to start making fun of Kaiba for finally breaking down and showing affection for a change. Kaiba had a bad past; he wasn’t shown a lot of love. He didn’t know how to love anyone other than Mokuba, and Joey had a pretty good understanding of where he’d learned about physical love. 

He resisted showing affection because he’d been taught to see it as a weakness—taught to see it as shameful. And all that resisting just led to built-up tensions that exploded. When Kaiba couldn’t fight it anymore, he was pushy and aggressive. Deep down, Joey felt that Kaiba really just wanted to be loved. _Everybody_ wants to be loved. However, not everybody was taught that love was a weakness that needed stomped out. 

Joey couldn’t tell his friends that Kaiba had bullied him so much—degraded him so much—because the pressure of fighting his affection was so overwhelming to him. Even now, Kaiba couldn’t speak kind words. His only way of telling Joey he even liked him was to say “you’re mine.” Kaiba felt out of control and he wanted to prove to himself that he was still in charge of something.

“What’s supposed to be so funny?” Téa asked. “Did he walk in on you changing or something?”

“It’s nothin’, guys,” Joey said. 

“Joey,” Tristan said, still trying to pry.

“Just drop it, alright!? You’re makin’ me sorry I ever told you anything!” Joey yelled. 

Kaiba’s affection—his love—wasn’t a joke, If Joey’s assumptions about Kaiba’s past were right, that his stepfather had done more than just slap him around and yell at him, then those kisses Tristan wanted so badly to exploit were a bigger deal than any of them could possibly imagine. Joey wasn’t going to let them make fun of Kaiba. It would hurt him… Joey didn’t want to hurt him. 

Joey didn’t know what it meant yet, but he liked Kaiba. He hadn’t forgotten all the grief that guy had given him over the years, but he was willing to forgive. Maybe. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Before going to face Kaiba and give him a piece of his mind about skipping class for the second day in a row, Joey knew he would have to stop by his own home and check on his dad. Even if Kaiba was insistent that Joey shouldn’t care about him, Joey still loved his father—booze and all. Besides, there was nowhere else for Joey to go since Kaiba would be at his corporate office until dinner time—and possibly even later.

Joey crept through the front door of his house and was shocked when the stench of booze wasn’t the first thing to strike his nose. The house was spotless except for the dirty man sleeping on the couch… Joey’s father had an amount of bruises and cuts on his face and hands, but otherwise he seemed alright. The empty bottle of alcohol on the coffee table—the only out of place thing in the room—hinted that the man was just passed out drunk. 

Apparently, Kaiba had called in a cleanup crew to help keep Joey’s dad from pressing charges for the attack. Joey was surprised it worked. His dad liked money a lot more than a clean home and charging Seto Kaiba with assault would’ve probably been a million dollar pay out… 

Maybe Kaiba had already given him a million dollars. Joey wasn’t going to wake up his father to ask.

Suddenly, there was clattering sound from the kitchen and Joey started. No one lived with him except for his father. Who was hiding out in his house?

Cautiously, Joey stepped over to the kitchen doorway and peered inside. There was an elderly woman standing over his kitchen sink, scrubbing it with a brush to get out the old grease stains on the metal. 

“Um…hello?” Joey called. The woman turned to look at him and smiled. 

“Oh, good. You’re home. Mr. Kaiba wanted me to tell you that he asked me to help your father keep up with the housekeeping.” The lady laughed and then went back to scrubbing. “I can take care of your father. I used to be a nurse before I retired.”

“Kaiba sent a retired lady to clean up after my dad?” Joey said, thinking out loud.

“I need the work to keep me busy. I don’t mind. Your father isn’t so bad as long as he’s…pacified.”

By pacified, Joey felt she meant drunk.

“Um…Thanks,” Joey said, watching the woman work with a feeling of guilt. He’d never bothered to keep the house clean and now this poor old woman was cleaning up his mess. 

“Also, Mr. Kaiba wanted me to tell you that his car will be here at four-thirty to pick you up for dinner. My shift ends at three, so I’ll be on my way out soon.”

“Okay,” Joey said moving to go to his room.

“One more thing,” the old woman said. “Mr. Kaiba took the liberty of moving some of your personal things to your room at the mansion.”

Joey froze, the meaning of the words not quite sinking in. He bolted for his room and almost screamed when he saw that all of his clothes, movies, and games were gone. It looked like someone raided the place and then dusted it clean and vacuumed. 

It was no wonder Kaiba sent an elderly, retired woman to clean his house. If it’d been someone younger, Joey would’ve given them a piece of his mind!

( ) ( ) ( )

When Seto got home from work, the first obstacle he was faced with was Joey. Apparently, he wasn’t very excited about being moved into the mansion more or less permanently. The only things he’d instructed his workers to leave behind in Joey’s old home were the pieces of furniture—a bookshelf, a broken bed, and a dresser. Everything else, Seto had had placed in Joey’s new bedroom at the mansion—one placed directly across the hall from Seto’s room. 

“What the hell was that about, Kaiba!?” Joey snapped. “You can’t just steal all my stuff and put it where you want without even asking me first! What’s _wrong_ with you!?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to let you go back to that house. You have an adequate room here, and I can guarantee that no one here is going to beat you up in a drunken rage.”

“No, they’ll just kiss me and back me into a wall!” Joey yelled. 

Some people saw anger as an attack. It made them feel threatened or cornered. For Seto, anger was a challenge—just another game. Could he escalate it? Could he soothe it? Sometimes not knowing what the outcome of his moves would be. Learning new things had always fascinated him. He loved knowing things that people his age weren’t supposed to know—like how to build incredible, high-tech machinery. 

It was the same with relationships. He had no idea how they worked, and now it was challenge to see how he could shape this one.

So while Joey kept fuming at him about invasions of privacy and how he had things he didn’t want Kaiba Corp employees digging through, Seto just watched the blonde’s curled lips. He waited and waited for the perfect chance, and as soon as Joey’s mouth formed the perfect o shape, Seto grabbed Joey by the back of the head and pressed their mouths together.

Maybe it was wrong—maybe he’d gone crazy—but the more he let go, the more he gave in to the horribly anxiety that gnawed at his chest whenever the pup was near, the better he felt. It was like a drug. Everyone in his house had their silence bought and paid for. Here, he could do whatever he wanted and the media could never know. It was shameful, but it was safe. 

And once Seto let go, all the tension left him. He didn’t feel so hostile anymore, and when he did he knew he could just strike up a fight with the dog. Joey knew how to argue and Seto knew how to fight without hurting feelings. 

He didn’t know a lot about relationships, but he felt that he and Joey had a good dynamic. He could yell at Joey and Joey would yell back. He wouldn’t fall to his knees and cry. He wouldn’t beg forgiveness or grovel. Joey was just as proud as Seto was—and that was what made him perfect.

As he kissed Joey on his open mouth, he couldn’t help but moan. Joey wasn’t fighting him, but he made a loud noise of displeasure as Seto stroked the hair at the base of his neck. After several seconds, Joey’s complaints stopped and Seto broke the kiss. Part of him wanted to let it go on—to explore more and touch more—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

As much as he liked Joey, as fascinated as he was by the pup, he didn’t like touching people. He liked his space. Very few people were allowed to be as close to him as Joey was now. It was part of the reason tabloid magazines had never been able to spread relationship rumors about him. If he was never seen with anyone in public, there was no scandal to whisper about.

“Did you do what I asked?” Seto said as Joey stared at him and panted, trying to catch his breath after the kiss.

“What?” Joey asked.

“Did you make out a list of meals for my cooks to add to our rotation?” Seto asked. He didn’t really expect Joey to have done it, but he had nothing else to say the boy. He wasn’t about to ask how school had gone—that was a question he reserved for Mokuba.

“Eh, I’ll do it later sometime,” Joey said, scratching the back of his head. 

“Fine. I have a video conference in half an hour so I won’t be at dinner,” Seto said. He saw the way Joey’s face drooped. It was slight, but Seto had a feeling it was because Joey was feeling sorry for Mokuba.

“When are you gonna eat?” Joey asked, sounding a little uncomfortable.

“After my conference. The cooks know to keep a plate warm for me.”

“Yeah, but what good is it to have a whole table set and not get to eat from it?” Joey asked.

“The world doesn’t revolve around my tastes and my stomach, Wheeler. Right now, it revolves around whatever hoops Pegasus wants me to jump through.”

“Your conference is with Pegasus?” Joey asked, actually following Seto as he walked upstairs to his room.

“We’ve been working on creating the holograms for some new cards. It takes a lot of programming to get the monsters to act so natural, and Pegasus is more involved in their design than you’d think.”

“It’s kinda unfair that you get all the info on the new cards before they’re even released,” Joey said.

“Even if I didn’t have an insider’s look I’d still be a better duelist than you.”

“Not better than Yugi,” Joey muttered.

Seto tried to ignore that last comment. It took a lot of self-control not to let his anger get the best of him, but he didn’t feel like spending the rest of his evening trying to formulate duel strategies to beat Yugi’s deck. All of his other calculations had failed and he didn’t know 

He didn’t want to let his mind get caught up in it—especially not with a video conference with Pegasus coming up. Pegasus liked to play games of his own and Seto didn’t need to have his patience worn out by then.

( ) ( ) ( )

When Kaiba’s video conference was finally over, Joey took it upon himself to bring Kaiba his food. Not because he wanted to be cute little server-boy, but because it was an excuse to get Kaiba alone and talk to him.

If Kaiba was going to keep forcing kisses on him and forcibly moving Joey into his mansion with him, Joey wanted to know exactly what was going on. He didn’t like being a bystander in his own life. 

Kaiba was in his home office still when Joey brought him the dinner. At first, Kaiba didn’t even look up when the door opened and closed, but when he realized it was Joey in his office instead of a domestic, he actually seemed a little amused.

“We never finished what we were talkin’ about this mornin’, and I still wanna talk to you,” Joey said. Kaiba scowled at him and leaned back in his chair. 

“As far as I’m concerned, that discussion is over. You admitted to me that your father doesn’t care about you. What else is there to discuss?”

“You, rich boy,” Joey muttered.

Joey’s eye twitched slightly, irritated by how smug Kaiba managed to sound. Deep down he realized that Kaiba’s attitude was a front for any and all of his insecurities, but it didn’t make it any more bearable.

“You want to discuss _me?_ ” Kaiba said, raising one brow in amusement. Still, he sounded snide.

“Yeah, _you._ ” 

“What could you possibly want to know about me? Don’t you read the tabloids? My life story is all there.”

“I don’t wanna know about how much money you make an’ who you met for dinner on business trips!” Joey snapped. 

“So you _have_ been reading what they write about me,” Kaiba said, smirking. Joey hated how pleased Kaiba looked—like a cat that had successfully captured a mouse.

“That’s not important!” Joey yelled. His only knowledge of Kaiba in the news was from whatever was on the cover of magazines in the supermarket check-out lines. It wasn’t his fault the lines were long and the only thing to keep his attention was pictures of Seto Kaiba with big captions reading _KAIBA CAUGHT IN CAFÉ WITH I2 REP (pg. 32)._ “Look, I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but I do. You’re a private person and I get that, but if you wanna keep me around and…you know, _stuff,_ then we gotta be open with each other. It’s not fair that you know all of my secrets and I don’t know any of yours.”

“You obviously have something you want to ask, so stop with the lecture and get to the point, Wheeler.” Kaiba’s humored eyes immediately turned dark and Joey felt his stomach tighten. He didn’t want to make Kaiba angry, but he needed to know… There was so much uncertainty about what exactly was happening between him and the CEO. Joey just wanted to know something about the other man…

“Don’t get mad at me,” Joey said, knowing it was a useless request since Kaiba had a mind of his own and was more than happy to assert it whenever he could. “But I gotta know…”

“ _Wheeler,_ ” Kaiba said, eyes getting extremely narrow as his frustration began to show. “Haven’t I taught you by now that stalling is just a waste of everyone’s time? What do you want?”

“Na—I’m tryin’! I just don’t want to make you mad!”

“I’m already getting mad.”

Joey sighed and forced himself to give up. If he didn’t ask now, he never would. He took a deep breath and cringed as he let the words go.

“You act like what happens between me and my dad is personal to you. I just wonder if…the same thing, you know, happened…happened to you.”

“I spent over a year in an orphanage. What do you think?” 

“I’m not talkin’ about at the orphanage,” Joey said, cringing at how insensitive he sounded. The death of Kaiba’s parents and how he ended up in an orphanage to begin with was an issue, but not the one Joey felt needed addressed right away. Kaiba seemed to have worked through all of that. He wore his new surname proudly—the Kaiba name—like a badge or medal he’d earned. “I’m talkin’ about your stepdad and you know it. Ever since we met you’ve been nothin’ but a jerk to me, then once you figured out he was beating me up you got all _protective._ It gets under your skin more than anything else—and that’s sayin’ somethin’, Kaiba, because the only other thing you let bother you is losing to Yugi at Duel Monsters. So I wanna know…your stepfather, he did the same thing to you, didn’t he?”

Kaiba was quiet for a very long time, staring with narrowed eyes. Joey sank his teeth into his bottom lip, waiting for Kaiba to snap. He looked like he was about to snap. Oh God, he was about to snap. Kaiba was finally about to lose his mind. His eye twitched!

Joey cried out a little squeal of fear when Kaiba’s eye literally twitched. 

He’d been crazy to think Kaiba was going to open up. Had he thought Kaiba’d magically turn all warm and fuzzy because he pitied Joey? 

“I-I’m sorry,” Joey said quickly. “I just—I thought… I-I don’t know. I—I said I was sorry!” Joey began to panic when Kaiba stood up from his desk slowly. When Joey moved toward the door, preparing to run for his life, Kaiba grabbed him by the arm and backed him into the wall again—that cold, haunted look in his eyes. “I’m sorry!” Joey called. 

“Why do you care about what happened between my stepfather and me?” Kaiba asked, his voice as cold as his eyes. His grip on Joey’s wrist became crushing and Joey cried out in pain. It was useless to try to fight because the more he squirmed the more agitated Kaiba became. 

“Because you care about what happened between my dad and me! It—It wouldn’t be right if you protected me and I didn’t show concern for you!”

“Stay out of my business,” Kaiba said, locking his eyes with Joey’s in an unrelenting stare.

“Why should I?” Joey snapped. “You broke into my house and beat up my father—then sent some servant to clean up after him. Why would you do somethin’ like that?”

Kaiba didn’t say anything. He just kept eye contact—his face blank.

“Kaiba…” Joey tried to put some compassion into his voice, hoping that Kaiba would realize Joey was just trying to get to know him and not fish for information to sell to the tabloids. Apparently, Kaiba took that compassion to mean something entirely different.

At first, Joey thought he was about to be grabbed and thrown through the wall. Kaiba fisted his hand in the hair on the back of Joey’s neck and pinned him that way against the wall, then he forced their lips together, waiting for Joey to cry out from the pain of his hair being yanked so he could slide his tongue into Joey’s mouth. The hand that wasn’t in Joey’s hair grabbed onto his hip hard enough to leave bruises. When the hand left his hip and began to tug at the front of his jeans, Joey moaned in protest and started pushing against Kaiba’s chest. Even when he used all of strength, Kaiba wouldn’t budge and panic began to take over all of Joey’s thoughts. All he could focus on was the wall digging into his bag, the fist in his hair, the tongue invading his mouth, and that hand forcefully rubbing him through his jeans. 

Just when Joey was about to scream, all of the contact stopped and Kaiba took a small step back. Joey looked up to meet his gaze, faced with the same harshness and coldness as before. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say, terrified that Kaiba would grab him again. Sure, Joey had been backed into corners before—beaten until he was bloody and barely able to move—but what Kaiba had been insinuating, touching him that way when he didn’t want it, that was different. That was worse. 

As it was, Kaiba was just staring at him now, taking in the fear on Joey’s face. Was he planning something? Planning a way to pin Joey so he couldn’t escape or a way to gag him so no one would hear it if he screamed? Was Kaiba really that kind of person?

He couldn’t be—No, he couldn’t be. If he was cruel, he wouldn’t have gone ballistic when he saw Joey’s father hitting him. Kaiba’s instincts were to protect, not to torture. Right?

“If I were my stepfather,” Kaiba said, his eyes so dark it made Joey shudder. “I wouldn’t have stopped.” He gave Joey one last, harsh push to the chest, causing him to smack the back of his head on the wall and let out an involuntary whimper. 

After that, Kaiba left his office, slamming the door behind him. Joey stared at it after he was gone—all of his questions answered.


	15. The Confidante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba is always so reserved and so cold--what happens when he has no choice but to open up?

Joey let Kaiba cool off for about an hour before trying to find him. He knew the guy wouldn’t be happy—especially not after being made to relive one of the worst horrors of his past. Kaiba was obviously so haunted by what had happened in his childhood, so hurt and sensitive, that he couldn’t even find the words to say what happened to him. He wouldn’t admit it in words, he would only demonstrate with actions.

But then again, for a person like Kaiba, speaking up about the things he endured was dangerous. If the media caught word of things he’d been put through, the story would explode in the headlines. It would be all anyone talked about. It wouldn’t be KAIBA CAUGHT IN CAFÉ WITH I2 REP, it would be RAPE SURVIVOR TURNED BILLIONAIRE or STOCKHOLM SYNDROME: WHY SETO KEPT HIS RAPIST’S NAME. 

Just the thought made Joey’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He didn’t want something like that happening to Kaiba. Even if Kaiba was a jerk, it made sense now why he pushed everyone away. If the wrong person found out about his past, the tabloids would never let it go. They’d dig up every detail, they’d harass Mokuba, they’d probably start rumors that Kaiba repeated the cycle with Mokuba… 

Even though Joey wanted to let the conversation go, he felt he needed to reassure Kaiba that he wasn’t going to go gossiping to anyone about what was said. He would be mixed up in the tabloids too now if word ever got out, and although Joey wished for recognition for his dueling skills, he wasn’t prepared for a scandal.

Joey slowly made his way to Kaiba’s bedroom and sighed deeply before knocking on the door. When he didn’t hear anything, he mustered up the nerve to open the door without being invited inside. Once the door was open he heard the sound of the shower running in the adjoining bathroom.

Not sure what to do but knowing better than to barge in on Kaiba’s shower, Joey began wandering through the bedroom. He wondered if he should leave and come back later, but thought that since Kaiba had made him sleep in the room before, it was kind of like his own room now… And he had no idea where else he’d go if he didn’t wait for Kaiba here. He just hoped Kaiba wouldn’t come out of the bathroom naked. 

Sure, they’d done stuff together, but it was still a weird situation and he wasn’t ready for _that_ yet.

Trying to learn something about Kaiba without outwardly snooping through the room, Joey wandered around looking at the books on the shelves and the furniture. The room really was impersonal… Didn’t Kaiba even _have_ a personal life?

Probably not. By the looks of things, he went to work, came home, and went to bed. He barely ate, barely slept, and definitely didn’t dwell on the past. The only personal things in his room were related to Duel Monsters and Mokuba. 

It was kind of sad. All his life revolved around was Mokuba and a card game. Yugi loved Duel Monsters, but he had friends and other hobbies too. Kaiba needed to have something else in his life. It was no wonder he was so high strung about winning and losing. 

“What are you doing?”

Joey froze and quickly set Mokuba’s photo back down on the desk.

“I-I was waiting for you,” Joey said. He turned around slowly, afraid of what he’d see, but was able to relax when he saw that Kaiba was wearing a pair of blue pajamas.

“Don’t… That’s my best photo. Don’t mess with it.” 

“Sorry,” Joey said, sighing in relief when anger didn’t cross Kaiba’s face. He just looked anxious. 

“I had the servants buy you pajamas. They’re in the third drawer.”

“I have pajamas,” Joey muttered. He had his own room at the Kaiba mansion now, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t get to spend much time in it.

“A stained t-shirt and underwear isn’t pajamas,” Kaiba said, opening the drawer he’d referenced earlier and throwing a pair of pajamas at Joey’s face. Joey felt his eyebrow start to twitch when he realized that the pajama bottoms were plaid with puppy print—little dogs and bones and bowls mixed in—and the top was white with a large dog on the front. Like little kid pajamas! 

“You have to be kiddin’ me,” Joey muttered.

“Put them on,” Kaiba said, no emotion or room for negotiation in his tone. 

Joey whined, wanting so badly to throw the clothes back in Kaiba’s face and storm out, but knowing that he needed to keep Kaiba calm if he wanted to further their conversation any more that night. And he had more he wanted to say…

“Fine,” Joey muttered, taking the pajamas with him into the bathroom where he changed in private. As he changed, his eyes caught the pile of clothes in the hamper near the door. What a million fangirls wouldn’t give to go through that hamper… Kaiba was cool and all, but Joey didn’t see why so many people were in love with him. He was cold and mean and cocky…

But he was also somewhat attractive, Joey had to admit. Not as good looking as himself, but still acceptably attractive. 

“Are you done yet?” Kaiba called less than a minute after Joey went into the bathroom. Joey grumbled and pulled on the stupid pajamas, not giving it a second thought when he tossed his dirty clothes into the hamper with Kaiba’s.

“Yeah, yeah—you’re real patient, Kaiba,” Joey said, opening the bathroom door. 

Kaiba stared at him when he came out, his face stoic for all of four seconds before he started to smirk, and then chuckle, and then straight up laugh. 

“What’s so funny!?” Joey yelled, knowing exactly what was funny.

“I didn’t think you’d actually wear them,” Kaiba said, still laughing.

“What, did you expect me to come out naked or something?” Joey asked, blushing slightly but trying to hide it by crossing his arms defensively. 

Kaiba immediately quit laughing and hummed. His eyes took on a devious look that Joey didn’t like at the moment. Kaiba must’ve sense the aversion, too, because his gaze immediately softened. 

“I have to be up early tomorrow. We should go to bed,” Kaiba said. 

“Um, before we do… There’s—I, uh, I just wanted to say something,” Joey said.

Kaiba shrugged his shoulders and turned on the bedside lamp before turning off the over head lights.

“Make it quick,” Kaiba said, his tone low as if he knew what was going to be said.

He wasn’t stupid, Joey knew. Kaiba knew _exactly_ what was going to be said.

“I just wanted you to know that…I’m not gonna tell anyone about what we talked about earlier,” Joey said, not bothering to go into detail. They didn’t really ‘talk’ about the issue, more or less they just acted it out. “I mean that. Not…anybody. So you don’t have to worry about the papers or the press or anything.” 

Kaiba was silent—absolutely silent and still—standing next to the bed. He didn’t even move to sit or lie down and Joey swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Kaiba was scariest when he said nothing. You couldn’t tell if he was going to get angry or just keep that horrible silence. 

“I really mean that,” Joey added. “I won’t tell _anyone._ ” He was trying to get it across that he wasn’t going to tell Yugi or Tristan or anyone who wasn’t a member of the press as well, but he wanted to avoid saying Yugi in the sanctity of Kaiba’s bedroom. He knew how much Kaiba disliked his best friend…

“Thank you,” Kaiba said, it was quiet but not whispered. Still firm and forceful as anything Kaiba ever said, but… Wow. Did Kaiba really just tell Joey _thanks_ for something?

“It’s…it’s cool,” Joey stammered, trying to play it cool but failing horribly. 

“Come to bed,” Kaiba said, sitting down and turning off the lamp before Joey could even get near the bed. Joey groaned but fumbled over to the bed, falling over it and landing with his face in the sheets. The bed was far too large for him to have actually fallen on Kaiba like a person in a movie.

“Kaiba?” Joey said, feeling a little more confident in the dark.

“What?” Kaiba asked, sounding tired but not angry or harsh.

“Why do you even want to have me here? I thought you hated me.” Joey tried to crawl toward what he thought was the head of the bed but couldn’t see well in the darkness. He always fell over the edge, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him up toward the pillows as if he were as light as a small child.

“Don’t ask me that,” Kaiba said, pressing a hard kiss onto Joey’s cheek. “You’ll just make both of us confused.”

“No, I want an answer,” Joey pushed, more playful and argumentative than pushy and angry.

Kaiba sighed, annoyed but not bitter. “Because you’re…stubborn and loud, and you’re not obsessed with me and don’t care about my money.”

“You can say all of that about Téa and Tristan,” Joey muttered, just to see what else he could get.

“No,” Kaiba said, either laughing or huffing. “They don’t… You—Hm.”

Joey almost choked. He had Kaiba speechless—tongue tied. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Wheeler. You always acted like you hated me. Now, all of a sudden, you’re in my bed wearing puppy-dog pajamas—I don’t understand.” Kaiba put on a strange tone when he said it, like sarcasm mixed with the best of humor. 

“You beat up someone to protect me,” Joey muttered. “It was kinda cool—or, would’ve been cool if it weren’t my dad.”

“Forget about your father. You’re here with me and he can’t have you,” Kaiba said, lying back and dragging Joey down with him.

“You never answered my question,” Joey mumbled.

“I don’t have an answer,” Kaiba said. “Go to sleep.”

Joey sighed and curled up against Kaiba’s side, trying to get comfortable with someone else’s arms all around him. It was strange, but not difficult to get used to. It was the realization that this was _Kaiba_ he was cuddling up against that was hard to grasp. Seto Kaiba! _Cuddling._ The thought would’ve been enough to make Joey shudder a mere month ago. Now, he was just going with it. 

No… Not _just_ going with it. 

Joey squirmed slightly and sought out Kaiba’s face, trying to find his lips in order to kiss him goodnight. Kaiba just laughed at him—laughed! and rolled over onto his side. Giving up, Joey curled up next to him and closed his eyes. He wasn’t exactly tired, but there was nothing else to do besides sleep… And Kaiba was really warm underneath the blankets.

( ) ( ) ( )

Seto remembered being slapped—and then slapped again and again and again until he stopped trying to dodge it. He didn’t know what he’d done to make Gozaburo mad. They’d just been at the party—a kid started talking to him and Seto just upheld his end of the conversation. Gozaburo took one look at them, came over, and dragged him away. Once he was out of earshot of the party, Gozaburo started yelling and then hitting, never saying why and never making any sense.

“How dare you!” Gozaburo would yell, hitting harder and harder until Seto finally fell onto the floor. “Get up!” Gozaburo had screamed, grabbing Seto by the arm and pulling him back to his feet only to slap him again and cause him to stumble. 

Seto tried not to cry as he was dragged up flights of stairs to his bedroom. Gozaburo pulled on him by his arm and then used his hair to shove him toward the bed once they were both in the room. He closed the door behind him, locking his eyes on Seto who just stared at him in fright, knowing he was trapped and that there was nowhere he could go and nothing he could do.

“Wh-what did I do?” Seto asked, stammering from the terror even though he knew Gozaburo would punish him for it.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you,” Gozaburo boomed, stepping closer. Seto flinched and then shuddered when he realized that the more fear he showed, the stronger the gleam in Gozaburo’s eyes became. 

“Father, I don’t know what I did,” Seto said, hating how pathetic he sounded. He wanted to be tough and prove his worth as a Kaiba, but it was impossible when Gozaburo looked at him _like that._ Like he was a scrap of meat before a starved animal.

“You think you can hide things from me—you think you can walk around my house and keep secrets…”

Everything was hazy after that. Maybe the fear blotted the memories out, maybe it was the pain—or maybe Seto just didn’t want to know what was said. 

What he couldn’t forget was the pain. Being shoved on the bed, slapped, punched, stripped of his clothing just like the first time. Seto tried to fight, but Gozaburo would just keep hitting. 

By the time all of his clothes were gone, Seto had given up. He had no defenses but it broke him to submit. He didn’t want hurt anymore, but he was powerless against it. He couldn’t hit Gozaburo back. The man was over twice his size…

Seto was forced to roll onto his stomach when he could no longer bear to receive the stinging blows to his cheeks. His face was halfway burning and halfway numb, and his ears were ringing from the number of times his head had been hit off the headboard of the bed. 

When he felt Gozaburo’s hands slide down his sides and to his hips, Seto’s will broke and he sobbed. He knew what was going to happen—he _knew_. It was like the last time, when Gozaburo had searched him for _something_ and grew angry when he couldn’t find it. 

“Don’t you dare start crying,” Gozaburo had growled. Seto tried to stifle the sounds, but couldn’t keep back the tears in his eyes. He was humiliated and frightened—he didn’t want to be so weak, but he couldn’t help it. “How pathetic can you be?” Gozaburo sneered, digging his nails into Seto’s hips and scratching his skin as he forced Seto to raise his hips off the bed. 

“Father?” Seto tried, managing to keep the shaking out of his voice. It did nothing to deter his stepfather. Nothing could change that man’s mind once he had it set on something. Tonight, his mind was set on putting Seto back in his place—subservient, obedient, silent…

Seto didn’t want to remember what was said before his stepfather undressed behind him, he didn’t want to recall the tension and sickening anticipation that came just before his stepfather pressed against him. 

His stepfather had laughed—it was a laugh that would haunt him forever—and then forced his way into Seto’s body, no preparation or gentleness. He laughed when Seto couldn’t even scream because the pain was so intense. Any effort he made to stifle his tears was lost. It was the worst pain he’d ever felt in his life—worse than any emotional wound or scar. He was hurting, he was terrified—and that man was still _laughing._ Why was he laughing? Why was this _funny_ to him?

Seto’s body began to tremble as Gozaburo forced all of the way inside and then pulled slowly back out, over and over. It was unbearable and yet not enough for Seto to be able to black out. He was trapped, trapped by Gozaburo’s firm hands, powerful weight. His skin felt like it was on fire, being singed wherever Gozaburo’s flesh touched his own. The heat alone was enough to make him yell, but the pain was so intense his throat tightened until he could barely breathe. 

He wanted to beg for help, he wanted to beg Gozaburo to stop, but he knew that nothing would end and no one could save him. He was trapped—there was no way out. 

It was all he could think when he wasn’t focused on the pain as Gozaburo thrust into him, shedding blood that started to drip down Seto’s thighs and stain the sheets. 

“Father,” Seto whispered, grasping on to the wood of his headboard in a desperate attempt to pull himself forward, pull himself away from the pain. “Fa-Father, please!” He knew it wouldn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t save him if he begged. It just made Gozaburo laugh. 

He just kept laughing!

Why was he laughing!?

Why was it _funny!?_

( ) ( ) ( )

Seto rinsed his face off with cold water for the third time, but he still couldn’t get the shaking to stop. He tried rationalizing it to himself—that it had just been a dream and he didn’t need to let himself get so worked up over something that happened so long ago—but his body betrayed him. There had been tears on his face when he woke up, even though he was in no pain and the only ache lie deep within his past, and as soon as he stood up from the bed he began to tremble. 

He refused to go back to bed before the shaking stopped, afraid Joey would wake up and start asking questions and pressing for answers. Joey deserved to know the truth, but Seto really just didn’t want to discuss it anymore. He didn’t understand why the past would stay in the past. Gozaburo was gone now, and no one would ever dare to treat him that way again…

But just the memory left Seto sick to his stomach. 

He couldn’t bring himself to speak about it, and part of him—although he didn’t want to admit how large that part was—was afraid that if he failed to put it into words, Joey would walk off. They didn’t exactly have a relationship, but he didn’t want the pup to go. He didn’t have words for it, but he wanted to have the other boy near. The thought of even sleeping without that body there made him unhappy and uncomfortable. He was never dependent on anyone—at least not now that he could help it—and he hated how much power that boy had over him without even knowing it. 

Joey couldn’t leave… Seto had made sure he had nothing to go back to. His father was being taken care of, babysat by servants while he was poisoned against his son who he didn’t deserve anyway. While servants fed the old man mediocre meals, he would be told about how well his son was doing at the mansion, with the gourmet dinners and massive beds. That way if Joey did try to go home, his father would send him back—so Joey could never leave. Because Seto couldn’t stand the thought of Joey leaving _him_ to go back to the man who beat him. Seto refused to allow that to happen. Joey couldn’t leave—Joey couldn’t walk out on him…

Seto leaned down to rinse his face one last time, trying to calm his nerves with thoughts of other things—other than business, other than Gozaburo, other than abusive fathers who didn’t deserve to have Joey around.

But that train of thought just left him more anxious. Joey had asked him why he wanted him around. That was a good question, and Seto didn’t want to answer it. 

It went against everything he knew about himself to be true to admit that he wanted that giddy, quirky energy around him. He tried to tell himself that that happiness annoyed him, that Joey’s naivety angered him, when really he was just jealous of it. He knew Joey’s home life was troubled, and it made him so jealous that Joey managed to hide it so well with that big, stupid smile. 

Seto didn’t like to be jealous. When someone had something he wanted, he took it using any means necessary. He didn’t want to steal Joey’s happiness—his energy, his light—but just wanted to have it. 

According to the papers, Seto had everything. He just wanted that to be true…

Seto sighed and splashed the cold water over his face one last time and turned off the tap. He reached for the towel hanging near the bathroom counter and wiped at his face with it. Just as he was about to set it down a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, making him stiffen and killing the small tremors that had continued to course through his body.

Was this some kind of waking nightmare? A leftover from his dream?

Seto dropped the hand towel and stared at the mirror in front of him. Reflected in the glass was his image with Joey latched onto his back, leaning against him either trying to offer comfort or use him as a standing body pillow…

“What are you doing?” Seto asked, trying to hide his sigh of relief. The dream was over. He wasn’t being haunted anymore. 

“You left the bed,” Joey mumbled, his mouth buried in the back of Seto’s shoulder. “I got cold.”

“Cold?” Seto asked, turning around in Joey’s arms and trying to pry the boy off of him even though he didn’t mind having him so close.

“Yeah. Come back to bed,” Joey whispered. 

“I’m not tired,” Seto muttered, knowing that he could sleep if he tried but not wanting to admit to himself that he was afraid he’d have more nightmares. 

Joey sighed and held Seto tighter, almost looking like he was afraid of something… 

“Was it a nightmare?” Joey asked, pressing his mouth into Seto’s chest and muffling the words.

Seto stiffened, not wanting to answer but knowing Joey deserved the truth. They were sharing a bed—Joey deserved to know why Seto would get up and walk out of the room in the middle of the night.

“Yes,” Seto whispered, reaching up to stroke Joey’s hair as if the blonde was the one needing comforted. 

“Can…can I ask you what it was about?” Joey asked, flinching as if he really thought Seto would lash out at him. 

Seto guessed he probably deserved the suspicion. He’d been nothing but cruel to Joey since they’d met. It was only natural that Joey would be afraid of him now.

“It… It wasn’t pleasant,” Seto said, finally able to get Joey to let go of him. He turned off the light and walked back into the bedroom with Joey following close behind him. The light was still off in the bedroom and Seto felt safer—more shielded—in the dark. 

“Was it…about your stepdad?” Joey asked, falling onto bed as he struggled to maneuver through the room in the dark. He wasn’t used to the space like Seto was. 

“Yes,” Seto said with a sigh, sitting down on the bed and feeling it shift as Joey struggled to navigate to the headboard. Joey slammed his head into the wood of the headboard and whimpered, managing to make Seto laugh despite the dark mood. Joey kept grumbling in pain and Seto moved over to where the blonde was sitting on the bed.

He grabbed Joey in his arms and held him to his chest, fluffing Joey’s hair even though his pup just grumbled at him for his efforts.

“I don’t have the nightmares all the time,” Seto said, making himself open up. It was late, he was tired, and it was dark. He didn’t feel the need to have all of his walls and defenses up. “Just lately they’ve been happening again.”

“Is it because I’m here?” Joey asked.

“Probably,” Seto said, making it sound harsher than he’d intended. “Seeing your father…and what he does to you,” he added, trying to sound less offensive. “It makes me mad.”

“My dad isn’t like yours was,” Joey mumbled. He always pointed out that difference, as if the pain he went through was any less damaging. Joey’s own _father_ assaulted him. His own parent—someone who was supposed to love him and protect him. That had to hurt worse than being assaulted by a stand-in, replacement parent. Gozaburo wasn’t excepted to love him or protect him, just provide for him. Joey didn’t even realize how bad his own situation was…

“He shouldn’t hit you,” Seto said, leaning back against the headboard with Joey’s head on his shoulder.

“Your stepdad…He _really_ shouldn’t have done those things to you,” Joey said, hardly louder than a whisper. He was so afraid Seto was going to get mad at him or lash out. He was being so careful and gentle. It was a side of him Seto hadn’t really witnessed before. He knew Joey to be defensive, protective, and obnoxious about what he thought was right—it was nice to see him so approachable, so comforting.

“He was jealous,” Seto said. “I think.”

“You think he was jealous?” Joey asked, his tone immediately going from relaxed to confused.

“He always got angry when I talked to other people or if he even _thought_ I’d been talking to someone else. He was paranoid. Delusional. The man was sick,” Seto muttered, remembering the many other times that Gozaburo lashed out at him when he was even standing too close to other kids or worse—other men. It wasn’t always a physical assault—he knew how to use words as well as he used hands and fists.

“How long did it last?” Joey asked, his voice soft.

“I got rid of him in a little over a year,” Seto said with more than a little pride. It boosted his ego to know that as a kid—a kid Goazburo thought he’d broken—Seto had been able to overthrow a tyrant. 

“How?” Joey asked.

“He was too confident. He underestimated me. It was easy to move around without him noticing because he thought I’d never be brave enough to actually stand up to him. All I had to do was act weak when he looked at me and he never saw it coming.”

“I just… I can’t imagine what that was like. I would’ve just run away.”

“I couldn’t run. I had Mokuba,” Seto said. 

“I would’ve just taken him with me,” Joey said, pity in his voice.

“And fed him with what? Clothed him with what? Here he has everything he could possibly want. That’s what I wanted for him. I would’ve paid any price for him to have this.”

“Yeah, but would he have wanted you to pay _that_ price?” Joey asked. 

“You think I told him about any of that?” Seto asked, unable to hold back the bitterness.

“I don’t know how you’d explain it,” Joey said, pulling out of Seto’s arms. 

“He would blame himself,” Seto said, suddenly anxious that Joey would tell his secret to Mokuba. “You can’t tell him about that.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Joey said quietly. “I wouldn’t do that to you. That’s…that’s your personal life. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

Seto tried to think of something to say back, but nothing came to mind. He wanted to trust Joey, but part of his mind still advised against it. That was why he wouldn’t say anything out loud or give any detail. If he opened up completely, said the whole truth and gave it all away, that would give Joey too much power. Even now, all Joey had to say was that he’d talk to the press and Seto would have no choice but to grovel at his feet to keep him from doing it… (Not that he’d use groveling as his first resort. He had blackmail, too, that he would bring out first. And some threats of his own, maybe even a little violence, but groveling was still on the list.)

“When did you start to like me?” Joey asked suddenly.

“When you wouldn’t stay out of my way,” Seto said, his mind on other issues. 

“What?” Joey asked.

“You wouldn’t go away. You were always in my face. No one else would dare to talk to me like you.”

“That doesn’t sound very flattering, Kaiba,” Joey said. He was obviously trying to pick up the mood and Seto appreciated it. He knew if he tried to sleep with the dark memories as the first thing on his mind, that was all he’d dream. 

“I always knew if I did… _date_ someone, I would want that person to have their own mind. I don’t want to date a fan who hangs on every word I say. I want someone with their own mind and their own thoughts, who can take it if I have a bad day and lose my temper. You and I can argue, and sometimes you get close to winning.”

“Get close? I’ve won more than one argument with you, Kaiba,” Joey muttered. “It’s still losin’ when you just stop answering me.” 

Seto laughed and leaned over to kiss Joey on the cheek. He’d accepted long ago that he was completely out of his mind for having feelings for the blonde mutt. He couldn’t fight them. All he could do was accept it and run with it for however long it lasted. Maybe he’d keep Joey around, and maybe he’d wake up one day and come back to his senses. 

Maybe.

As it was, he enjoyed the company. He liked having someone to be close to and to rely on when the weight was too much for Mokuba. As much as he hated to admit it, it was nice to have the secret out—to have someone know that Gozaburo wasn’t just a coldhearted businessman, but that he was also a madman… A child molester. 

“We should go to bed,” Seto said softly.

“See? That’s what I’m talkin’ about! You don’t win the argument because you change the subject!”

Seto laughed and grabbed Joey by the back of the head. He pulled him into a firm kiss and smirked when Joey squirmed in his hands.

“Hush,” Seto said. Joey moaned in either annoyance or embarrassment and slid down to lie against the pillows. 

“Still didn’t win,” Joey muttered. Seto laughed at him and pulled Joey closed to him on the bed as he lie down beside him. 

“I said hush,” Seto repeated. 

Joey grumbled and curled into Seto’s side. It took a while, but Seto was able to feel close to sleep again despite the nightmares. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt Joey press a soft kiss against his chin and then another on his lips. He wanted to tell Joey to stop it—out of habit, used to pushing people away—but instead he just pretended to be asleep.


	16. Acclimating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joey goes digging for a few more secrets, but all's well that ends well right?

Joey felt like he was about to throw his desk against the wall when he got to class—the class where he needed to present his and Kaiba’s project—and Kaiba still wasn’t there! Kaiba had promised that he was going to be there yet his seat was empty. The teacher was doing role call and Kaiba still wasn’t there!

“And where is your partner today, Mr. Wheeler? Are you presenting on your own?” 

Why did the teacher ask him where Kaiba was? Kaiba was his own person. All you had to do was turn on the news to see that. 

“How should I know?” Joey asked. “He said he was gonna be here.”

“We’ll give him a few minutes, but if he doesn’t come, you have to go on your own.”

Joey groaned in discomfort and stared at the door. Just as he was about to wish Kaiba would lose his next business deal as punishment for holding out on him for so long over this stupid project, Kaiba walked through the door. 

“Ah, you finally decided to show up, Mr. Kaiba,” the teacher said. 

“I have a meeting in half an hour,” Kaiba said, his voice as rigid and stiff as ever. “Let’s make this quick.”

The teacher sighed heavily and gestured for Joey and Kaiba to go to the front of the room to give their presentation. Joey, who hated giving presentations, dreaded it even more when he was paired with Kaiba. It was intimidating to stand beside him. When Kaiba gave his portions of the presentation, he spoke better than their teacher—he demanded attention and boasted an air of confidence. He knew how to speak in front of groups. He wasn’t nervous, wasn’t shaky, didn’t look like he was about to cry like some of the girls who had given presentations did. 

He spoke so clearly and so directly—only a hint of arrogance in his tone. 

Joey’s portion of their presentation paled in comparison. Joey stammered, he got mixed up and misspoke. It was hard to act confident when Kaiba was watching him as he spoke. Just watching—staring. It was all Joey could do not to blush. 

He would never tell Kaiba, never stroke the rich boy’s ego by admitting that when he’d never really found Kaiba attractive until he stood next to him at the front of the room. At that moment, he just looked so confident and powerful—and Joey stood _next to him_ as an equal. 

And when their presentation was done and Joey was about to go to sit back down at his desk, Kaiba looked at him with a certain gleam in his eyes. It was a glance that no one else in the room understood. All eyes were on them and none of them, not even the teacher, realized what that little, quick gaze meant. 

Without a spoken word, Kaiba left the room as soon as Joey was back at his desk. Joey sat down, feeling like he was about to start shaking. It was that glance—that short gaze. It struck him to the core. It wasn’t like the usual looks Kaiba would give him. There wasn’t arrogance or loathing—it was all…affection. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey sat on the roof for lunch with Tristan, Téa, and Yugi sitting around him. After spending a little bit of time talking about their classes and who was more discouraged over the amount of homework they were assigned, the conversation turned its focus to Joey and how he was handling his stay at the Kaiba mansion.

“So are you ever going to tell us what’s going on between you and Kaiba?” Téa asked, picking at her lunch. “I still don’t understand how the two of you are _living together_ and not beating each other up. You guys hate each other. So what changed?”

“I told ya,” Joey muttered. “He saw my dad gettin’ rough with me an’ he didn’t like it.”

“Kaiba threw you on the ground at Duelist Kingdom, Joey. Since when does he care about your wellbeing?”

“Nyah—Stop askin’ me!” Joey yelled, unable to give a real answer. 

“Something’s going on between you two; now spit it out!” Téa yelled, more humored than angry. 

“I could tell you, but I think old Joey here would pitch a fit,” Tristan said, laughing more at Joey’s expense.

“It’s not that hard to believe Kaiba just feels bad for Joey after what he saw,” Yugi said, coming to Joey’s defense. 

“I’d believe you if he didn’t have Joey sleeping at his house _before_ he walked in on the fight,” Téa said. “Something’s going on between those two, Yugi. And if Joey was _really_ our friend, he’d tell us.” Her tone was playful but that didn’t make Joey feel any better about it. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep his relationship (if that’s what it was) a secret, he just didn’t want to make Kaiba look weak or vulnerable. The whole basis of his connection to Kaiba came from his history of abuse, and those weren’t Joey’s secrets to share.

“It’s complicated,” Joey mumbled. “Kaiba… His life’s complicated and he’s not good at showin’ stuff.”

“What he’s trying to say is he and Kaiba are dating,” Tristan said. 

“What!? Since when!?” Téa yelled. 

“We’re not dating,” Joey mumbled. 

“Of course not,” Tristan said. “You’re just boyfriends who live together.”

“Shut up, would ya?” Joey snapped. “I don’t want it in the papers, and Kaiba doesn’t need this right now.”

“He really asked you to keep it a secret?” Téa asked, looking skeptical and annoyed.

“We… We talked about some stuff, okay? And I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone. I can’t tell ya why we’re together, we just are.”

“But you _hate_ Kaiba,” Téa said. 

“I never really _knew_ Kaiba,” Joey said. He used to just see Kaiba’s anger, hostility, and arrogance. He never understood where all that pent up rage came from. Kaiba was no different than himself—a hurt kid with a bad past—only Kaiba didn’t get the chance to make friends who could support him and lead him out of the dark place. He’d been hurt, tortured, and had no one to turn to for comfort. He’d been forced to keep it all a secret—a secret that festered into shame and resentment. It was all insecurities, and Kaiba had been trained to never show that sort of weakness. All of his self-doubt was transformed into arrogance, a mask of superiority and fury whenever that image was questioned or threatened. 

“So what changed?” Téa asked. “I know Kaiba, and it’s not like him to just open up to someone—especially not _you._ ”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Joey mumbled. 

“Come on, Joey. We’re not trying to make fun of you guys, but Kaiba’s not known for being all warm and fuzzy,” Téa said. “How do you know he’s not just playing you?”

“Because I know, okay!?” Joey said. He didn’t want to get angry—it wasn’t Téa’s fault she did know Kaiba’s darker secrets—but it was hard to stay calm when all he saw in his mind were images of Kaiba from the night before, shaking in the aftermath of another nightmare with that haunted look in his eyes. No one saw Kaiba that way, not even Mokuba. That was Joey’s insurance that Kaiba wasn’t just toying with his feelings. That wasn’t acting… 

“Jeez, don’t lose your temper,” Téa said, rolling her eyes. “We’re just worried about you.”

“Well don’t be,” Joey mumbled. “Kaiba’s…an okay guy.”

“An okay guy?” Yugi echoed, looking at Joey with too much concern. He seemed to pick up on the fact that Joey wasn’t as sure about the relationship as he acted. 

“Wow, how romantic,” Téa mumbled. 

“Well… Kaiba takes some getting used to. It’s weird to go from hating someone to—”

“Sleeping with them?” Tristan suggested, laughing. Joey had never felt more mortified in his life than he did when Téa and Yugi gaped at him with open jaws. 

“It’s not like that!” Joey yelled. 

“You slept with Kaiba?” Téa asked, still staring.

“No,” Joey said with little conviction. Technically they hadn’t really had sex yet, but they’d done enough—or Kaiba had done enough to him rather. 

“I don’t know how I feel about this, Joey,” Yugi said quietly. 

“It’s nothin’ you guys need to be worried about.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Joey. I know Kaiba doesn’t let a lot of people close to him, so I don’t think he’s doing this to toy with you. But it’s like Téa said. Relationships aren’t Kaiba’s specialty. He may have a bad past, but that’s no reason to let him pressure you into things you don’t want or that you’re not ready for.”

“I appreciate the therapy session, but I’m capable of making my own decisions,” Joey said, closing up his lunchbox and shaking his head. He didn’t want to admit that the main reason he let Kaiba keep manipulating him was because he did pity him. Yugi and Téa…they just didn’t understand. They didn’t see the look Kaiba got in his eyes when he remembered his stepfather’s abuse. 

No he didn’t like the way Kaiba forced himself on him the first time—or the next time. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Kaiba didn’t do it to be cruel. That was apparent when he froze every time he thought he’d caused Joey to hurt. 

But Joey could never explain that to his friends. It was too personal. For the first time, he had secrets that weren’t just his to keep. They were Kaiba’s secrets…and no one else had a reason to know them.

( ) ( ) ( )

After school, Joey returned to the Kaiba mansion where he proceeded to do his homework and set to work on that list of foods he liked and didn’t like for Kaiba’s cooking staff. Once all of his work was done, Joey began to explore the mansion—checking out sitting rooms and entertainment areas with all the large TVs and sound systems. All of these modern rooms were on the first floor of the house, but once Joey was on the second floor, it was like time had frozen. 

On the second floor there were sitting rooms—lounges with old leather furniture—and libraries. Studies… There were magazines on the end tables and coffee tables all dated from five and six years previous. There was even a newspaper from all those years ago resting on a table beside a leather chair. Everything was wiped clean of dust and fingerprints, but it was still preserved in time. Joey could smell the faint, stale scent of old cigars on the air. Everything was as it had been when Gozaburo had still been alive. 

It didn’t seem right… Kaiba seemed to want to destroy everything that reminded him of his stepfather. Living in the same mansion that the man had owned was probably a way for him to prove to himself that he was in control of the past, but leaving these areas untouched contrasted his revolutionary attitude.

Then Joey wandered into the only room in the Kaiba Manor that was filled with cobwebs and dust. It was a room that looked like a classroom. There were textbooks on shelves on the back walls, charts and maps leaning against them. At the center of the room was a long table with only one chair at the end… This was Kaiba’s classroom—Seto’s classroom. His childhood was lost here, and no one had been allowed to touch it since. 

Joey was surprised that the door hadn’t been locked or plastered over, reinforcing the idea that the room didn’t exist and that the things which happened in it never transpired. 

He felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach as he backed out of the room. There was another room now that he wanted to find, just to see if it was preserved as well—the room where Seto had stayed when he’d first been adopted. The room he’d been hurt in. If Kaiba kept that room preserved like he did the classroom and the majority of the second floor, then Joey knew there was more damage done to Kaiba than he was letting on—and he let on about a lot. 

Finished exploring the second floor, Joey went up to the third where the bedrooms were. He passed guest room after guest room, accidentally walked into Mokuba’s room where the younger Kaiba was on the phone with someone and was not at all pleased about being intruded upon, and then continued to the other end of the hall. 

There he found the second master suite. Like the lounges on the second floor, this room too was infected with the stink of cigars and leather. It was, however, also covered in dust. Some of the furniture was covered in sheets, but the bed—a king-sized monstrosity of carved wood with dark quilted sheets over the mattress—looked as if someone had just climbed out it. If not for the dust on the twisted sheets, Joey would’ve wondered if someone had slept there in the night. 

Joey felt lured closer to the bed, maybe because in a room full of white sheets it was the only dark fixture that remained. He reached out carefully and pulled the heavy quilt aside, exposing more and more of the slightly gold tinted fabric of the mattress cover. As quickly as he’d moved it, Joey shoved the quilt back into place. There was a dark stain near the middle of the mattress cover and Joey knew from the shape and the dark tint that it was blood. He’d seen two small drops and then a large, crescent shaped smear and that was enough for him. 

It wasn’t a lot of blood, but just the thought of how it had gotten there caused Joey to feel close to tears. Seto had just been a kid when he’d moved into this house. He’d been a kid trying to provide for his little brother. Gozaburo took advantage of his stepson’s desperation, He’d used the boy for everything he could and destroyed every piece of innocence the orphan had left.

Joey backed out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him, trying to understand why Kaiba left it that way. Servants had been allowed in to cover the furniture but not fix the sheets… The room was never cleaned but it remained unlocked where anyone could find it. Why?

Across the hall from Gozaburo’s suite was the room where Seto had been kept after he’d been adopted. It was large, dusted, pristine—almost. It would’ve looked like another guest room if not for the chess board sitting at the center of the bed. 

There were little piles of white and black pieces on opposite sides of the board, but the distinguishing feature was that the White queen had the Black king in checkmate. Joey had a feeling there was a bloodbath on the sheets underneath that chess board, but he wasn’t about to dig to find out. The small patches in Gozaburo’s room had affected him enough.

( ) ( ) ( )

Kaiba didn’t make it home for dinner, didn’t even come home in time for the kitchen staff to prepare a meal for him before they left, didn’t come home until well past eleven o’clock and Mokuba was already in bed. Joey was sitting in Kaiba’s room on his bed, wearing his dog pajamas and staring at the wall. He didn’t know what to do to fill his time. 

It was a lonely house. There were books to read, but none of them were novels. It was such a stuffy, formal house… Apart from Mokuba, Joey had no one to talk to, and Mokuba was almost as busy as his older brother. Joey was surprised to find that Mokuba did do a fair amount of work for the company—though nothing as demanding as a CEO position—working with schedules and, as Mokuba stated over dinner, “investigating suspected embezzlement and fraud.” 

When Kaiba finally did come home, Joey was almost too afraid to greet him when he came into the room. He couldn’t imagine an extended day at the office resulting in a very good mood. 

“I swear to you, Wheeler,” Kaiba said, taking off his tie and tossing it toward the hamper across the room. Joey tried not to cower, but after living sixteen years under the roof of a violent drunk, bad days at work intimidated him. He always waited for the anger to turn on him. “One of these days I’m going to _kill_ Pegasus.” 

Joey opened his mouth to stammer out that he was sorry, wanting to do anything or say anything to diffuse the tension, but as soon as his lips were parted Kaiba’s lips were pressed against his own. Kaiba was crawling over him on the bed, making the kiss deeper and deeper until he had Joey lying back against the pillows. 

“Ya know, that’s not exactly the most romantic—”

“Shut up,” Kaiba said, kissing him again and slipping one hand underneath Joey’s pajama shirt.

“I’m not—”

“Hush,” Kaiba growled. Joey whimpered and tried turning his face away from the kiss. When Joey made the quiet, pained noise, Kaiba finally stopped and pulled back just a little. “My staff told me you were digging around in my spare rooms.”

“I got bored,” Joey muttered. There was no point denying it. Kaiba knew where he’d been and probably knew what he’d seen. He couldn’t get mad about it though. If he wanted the past to go away, he would’ve let those rooms be updated and cleared, not left behind with blood and mementos from the past. It was like he’d wanted someone to see…

“You got bored?” Kaiba asked, laughing slightly and attaching his lips to Joey’s neck. “Try spending six hours poring over Industrial Illusions contracts looking for hidden messages.”

“Hidden messages?” Joey asked, squirming slightly under Kaiba’s touch.

“Last time Pegasus offered me a contract, there was a line on the fifth page saying if no negotiations were proposed, I had to meet him for brunch the third Sunday of every month.”

“Maybe he’s just lonely,” Joey suggested, sighing in relief when Kaiba finally backed off. 

“Page ten said I have to tell the media I only enjoy the company of prostitutes whenever I’m asked if I’m dating someone in an interview,” Kaiba said. 

“Okay, that one’s pretty bad.”

“Exactly. These contracts are massive. And once I’m done weeding through them I have to draft a counter proposal and hope I didn’t miss anything.”

“Have you ever missed anything before?” Joey asked, getting a mental image of Kaiba being forced to play dress up because of a clause he missed on page sixteen.

“No,” Kaiba said, getting up from the bed and taking off his suit jacket. “So…other than digging around where you don’t belong, how was your day?”

Joey almost choked on his tongue. Seto Kaiba just asked him how his day was… Kaiba didn’t ask _anybody_ how their day was—expect Mokuba, maybe. 

“It was okay,” Joey said. “Tristan and Téa are asking questions about us.”

“You told them about us?” Kaiba asked, his eyes narrowing.

“They’re my friends!”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing…nothing intimate,” Joey said. “I just told them I was living here. They figured out the rest on their own.”

“Figured out the rest of what on their own?” Kaiba snapped.

“Don’t be a jerk,” Joey muttered. It amazed him how quickly Kaiba could shift from seductive to argumentative. “You know how close I am to my friends. I’m not gonna keep them in the dark about this.”

“As long as they can keep their mouths shut you don’t have to,” Kaiba said. “I don’t want this ending up in the papers.”

“People are gonna find out eventually,” Joey said with a sigh. “I’m not gonna be your dirty little secret forever, ya know?

“My secret? You think I want it to be this way?” Kaiba asked. For once he didn’t sound angry when he argued. “The tabloids would destroy you. Yes, they’re eventually going to find out, but it’ll be on our terms when _we_ decide we’re ready for the public to intrude on us.”

“And when’s that gonna be?” Joey asked. 

“When you figure out whether or not you’re going to stay,” Kaiba said. 

“You haven’t given me much of a choice. I can’t go back to my dad’s; he’ll probably kill me when he finds out I’ve been living here…”

“You know I won’t let that man hurt you,” Kaiba said. His tone was so reserved, almost sad. Joey had a feeling that there was something else going on under the surface that Kaiba was trying to keep buried.

“Somethin’s the matter,” Joey said. “I can tell, so don’t try to lie to me about it. What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Kaiba asked, hanging his suit jacket back up in his closet before beginning to unbutton his shirt. 

“You’re… I don’t know—I can just tell! What’s bothering you?” Joey turned away when Kaiba finished unbuttoning his shirt, even though he had a white undershirt beneath it.

“ _That’s_ what’s bothering me,” Kaiba said firmly.

“What?” Joey asked. “I thought you liked it when I stood up to you.”

“No, not your immature attitude. You won’t even look at me.”

“I’m shy!” Joey yelled, knowing that that wasn’t the real issue. Kaiba just stared at him until Joey looked away and gave in. “It’s weird for me, okay? I never thought about you like that before. Usually—like with the girls I’ve been with—I think about it beforehand. Like, I consider it being a possibility. Maybe, you know, _fantasize_ a little about it… You were always a jerk to me. I never thought about kissing you or…or stuff, so I’m not prepared for it.”

“That answer is a copout,” Kaiba snapped. 

“No it’s not!” Joey argued. “This is just weird, okay? I feel like I’m in the middle of dream—or a nightmare! I keep waiting to wake up in my bed with a bad concussion or somethin’. You _hated_ me, Kaiba. You can’t blame me because I’m still in shock about it.”

Kaiba stared at him with those cold eyes, unblinking. 

“It doesn’t mean I don’t like you,” Joey added. “It’s just weird and…I don’t know how to—Ah!” Joey groaned in frustration and scratched at his head. He wished Kaiba could just accept things as they were. 

“Don’t know how to what?” Kaiba asked, no understanding at all in his tone.

“I don’t know how to date another guy!” Joey yelled, flushing with embarrassment. “I’ve never even thought about being with a guy before you! It’s still weird for me.”

“That’s why I told you we’ll wait until you’ve made up your mind before we let the press find out that you’ve been here,” Kaiba said.

“I don’t need to make up my mind,” Joey mumbled. “I like you. I may not know what the heck I’m doing, but I don’t want to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Kaiba said. He took off his undershirt and tossed it toward the hamper to join his tie. Joey stiffened when Kaiba returned to the bed and started crawling over top of him again. He made Joey lie back against the pillows and began to kiss and suck at his neck.

Joey squirmed but thought twice before pushing on Kaiba’s chest to get him to back off a little. He didn’t want Kaiba to get upset, so Joey gave in and let the billionaire do as he pleased—he just hoped Kaiba didn’t try to take it too far. Even if Kaiba didn’t understand it, Joey wasn’t really prepared for this relationship. He’d never imagined himself being with someone like Kaiba—a _guy_ like Kaiba—and it took some getting used to. 

Joey let out a low gasp when Kaiba’s hand suddenly slid inside his pajama pants and began stroking him. Yeah, this _definitely_ took some getting used to!

Kaiba pressed a quick kiss onto Joey’s lips and then started kissing his way down his throat and neck. Then he went lower and Joey’s body tensed, his heart beginning to pound. Kaiba went lower and lower, stroking Joey’s cock with his hand until, with no warning, he wrapped his lips around the head and started sucking. Joey tried to protest, more shocked than upset, but all that came out was a choked moan. 

Kaiba looked up at him then, still working his mouth up and down. He stared at Joey with those blue eyes—those eyes so many other people dreamed about—and Joey fought not to look away. He knew it would just upset Kaiba if he showed aversion to the touches, and within just a few seconds of having Kaiba’s tongue sliding along the underside of his member, Joey was willing to do anything to keep it from stopping. He was willing to get over the fact that this was Kaiba—Seto freakin’ Kaiba!—if it meant the brunette would keep his lips moving. 

When Kaiba broke the stare, Joey let his head go lax against the pillows. Kaiba wrapped his fist around the base of Joey’s cock and began stroking it in time with the motions of his lips. He pressed the tip of his tongue into the slit of Joey’s cock, teasing until precum leaked into his mouth. Joey moaned helplessly as Kaiba sucked on him harder, fisting the base of his cock and using his lips to pay extra attention to the head. 

Joey squirmed under Kaiba’s touches, letting his mind fixate on the multitude of pleasurable sensations coursing through him. He tried not to remind himself that the only way Kaiba knew how to do this so well was because he’d most likely been coached by his stepfather when he’d been a kid. The thought was there in the back of his mind, but it was far in the background—especially when Kaiba took his hand away and began to deepthroat him.

It wasn’t long after that when Joey came, bucking up into Kaiba’s mouth. Kaiba pulled off and then immediately went into the adjoining bathroom. As Joey was coming down from his orgasm, he could hear Kaiba spitting into the sink and then washing his mouth and hands before he returned to the room. 

He sat down at the foot of the bed, leaving Joey to pull up his pajama bottoms on his own to cover himself. Joey waited for several minutes, trying to catch his breath and waiting for his heart rate to slow, but Kaiba didn’t move to lie down or change into his night clothes. 

With a groan, Joey sat up and crawled over to the foot of the bed. He rested his chin of Kaiba’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his torso. Kaiba didn’t respond at all to the touches, not even when Joey started nuzzling him—playing up the stupid puppy image Kaiba kept forcing on him. When Kaiba stayed still, Joey took a deep breath and let his hands slide lower down to the front of Kaiba’s black work slacks. He let his palm smooth over the obvious erection underneath the fabric, but when he squeezed a little bit Kaiba turned and shoved him backwards. 

“Don’t,” he said bitterly. 

“I was just gonna—”

“I don’t care! Don’t touch me,” Kaiba snapped. The anger immediately faded from his face once Joey’s only response was to stare and was replaced with anxiety. “Just…don’t touch me.”

“Fine,” Joey said, still taken aback from how violently Kaiba had reacted. It made sense—Joey knew instantly why Kaiba resisted him—but he also knew that Kaiba saw his own reservations as a weakness. He was afraid to have Joey touch him, and fear was one of the greatest weaknesses a person could have. “Less work I gotta do, rich boy,” Joey said, pretending to be unfazed and rolling onto his side in a position to go to sleep. “You gonna change or are you sleeping in your work pants?”

Kaiba didn’t say anything but stood up from the bed. He grabbed a pair of pajamas from his dresser and then disappeared into the bathroom to change. When he came back, he immediately turned out the light and got into bed with a fair amount of space between himself and Joey. At first, Joey was willing to let Kaiba have his space, but then he found himself creeping closer and closer until his nose was buried in Kaiba’s back. 

He was still getting used to the idea that he and Kaiba—Seto Kaiba, the rude and pushy CEO of the Kaiba Corporation—were a couple. Of all the people Kaiba could possibly want and _have_ , he chose Joey… Joey didn’t really understand why, but as he cuddled into Kaiba’s side, he decided that it certainly wasn’t a bad thing. It was obvious that Rich Boy had no idea how the hell to handle a relationship—especially a physical one—but Joey was coming to find that endearing. Kaiba wasn’t _mean_ about his insecurities. He didn’t ever really _force_ Joey to do things he didn’t want. In private, he was kind of nice…

Joey felt comfortable with Kaiba when they were on their own, not like before when they were always at each other’s throats. 

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Joey felt Kaiba’s weight shift as if he were trying to crawl away. In his sleepy stupor, Joey groaned and pulled Kaiba back closer to him, murmuring something about how it wasn’t time for work yet because nothing else came to mind. The other boy sighed, but laid still for a few moments longer before rolling over and draping an arm over Joey’s shoulder, holding him in return. His body was stiff for several minutes before he let out a heavy sigh, as if giving up or giving in.


	17. Gossip

It made him angry. It made him _so_ angry that no matter how hard he tried, no matter what he told himself, Seto couldn’t bear to have Joey trying to touch him. He didn’t want to admit that he was so weak. He didn’t want to accept that the mere thought of having Joey’s hands on him, or having Joey’s eyes on him, made him sick to his stomach. It made the anxiety gnaw at him, caused his heart to start pounding and his mouth to run dry. 

Seto hated to admit how much it _frustrated_ him to want touched so badly but to have fear hold him back. Since Gozaburo, Seto hadn’t let anyone see him or touch him that way. Not anyone. He couldn’t stand the thought, and when Joey’s hands ran over his body all Seto could think about—all he could hear and see and smell—was Gozaburo. 

It made him remember things he didn’t want to. It brought back all the old, bad feelings. The helplessness, the terror, the _pain._ Seto couldn’t stand it! The anger and rage kept mounting—building off of his aversion to admitting that he was frightened, that he was afraid to be vulnerable, that he _couldn’t_ have what he wanted because he was too scared. 

And it upset him that Joey knew that too. Yeah the blonde had played off Seto’s anger with an off-hand comment, but it was just a cover up. Seto hated that Joey understood him as much as he did, but deep down he was relieved that he didn’t have to answer for his actions or explain that he just couldn’t _bear_ to be touched like that.

Seto wanted to be normal—to have a normal relationship and get back what he put in—but that wasn’t going to happen. Not unless he got over his stupid, outdated fear and just…

Just what? 

Just fuck the blonde? Or let the dog fuck him…?

Either way, just the thought made him anxious and that anxiety turned to anger. He didn’t like being pushed into anything, and even though Joey wasn’t pushing, the pressure was still there. It didn’t help that Seto couldn’t get that release he so desperately, _desperately_ wanted. Sure he could go get in the shower, take care of his little problem, and wash it all down the drain—but that wasn’t the same as the real thing and it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t good enough, and Seto hated Gozaburo for making him aware of that. If Gozaburo had just hurt him—just used him and tossed him aside after he was finished—then it wouldn’t be so horrible, Seto told himself. If all he knew of sex was pain, then he wouldn’t have a reason to associate every sensation with that sick, twisted man. As it was, there wasn’t really much Joey could do for him that Gozaburo hadn’t already done…

Gozaburo had done lots of things just to see his stepson squirm. 

Oh how he’d loved to see his stepson writhe…

Seto shuddered against the memories and forced himself to try curling in Joey’s side in search of “comfort.” Joey, who was already asleep, started clinging to him as soon as Seto’s head was rested against his shoulder. The blonde moaned something about looking for a lost shoe and then went quiet again. Seto whished his dreams could be so trivial—that he could dream of missing footwear instead of nightmares about plummeting stock or perverted businessmen. 

For once, Seto wanted to dream about something other than that man’s hands on him, rubbing up and down his sides, forcing off his clothes…

“Stop shaking,” Gozaburo would command. When Seto’s body didn’t obey, Gozaburo would just laugh and keep touching, tracing his fingers down his stepson’s sides, toward his inner thighs and then back up. “How can you expect to succeed at anything when you’re terrified of everything?”

“I’m not afraid,” Seto would whisper. It wasn’t a lie—he wasn’t afraid that he would be hurt. He was shaking because he knew he’d be hurt and he didn’t want it. He shook because he was resisting the urge to run—because running would just make it worse. 

Gozaburo would laugh at him and make him lie back on the bed. He would make Seto look him in the eye when he started pressing rough fingers into his body, he would laugh when Seto’s eyes would tear up when the stretching started to hurt…he would make Seto kiss him and use tongue. He would make Seto into his little whore, coaching him more and more each time until—at last—after several months of training, Seto didn’t need told what to do.

Seto would undress at the foot of the bed, but never sensually enough to really make it a show. He would crawl up the mattress toward his stepfather, would sit in the man’s lap with his knees on either side of his hips, would kiss Gozaburo on the mouth—with tongue like he’d been told—he would let the man prep him, he wouldn’t make a sound as it happened. 

Even when his stepfather pressed inside of him, never with enough preparation as to make it painless, Seto would stare up at the man and breathe through his pain. No whimpers, no cries, no screams…no begging. It wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until he was finished and Gozaburo was finished. 

Sometimes, but not always, Gozaburo would be violent enough to draw blood. He’d refuse to do any prep or he’d make a point to pull out all of the way with each thrust so the pain would explode every time he pushed back in. 

That’s how it had been the final time. Gozaburo just pounded into him, breaking Seto’s body and thinking he’d crushed the boy’s spirit as well. Blood dripped down Seto’s thighs, stained the sheets, spattered against Gozaburo’s hips. When he saw it, he would laugh… He always laughed.

Then he’d start stroking up Seto’s thighs, grab his member and force him to feel pleasure—make him feel good when all he wanted to do was disappear into the depths of his mind. 

And it would just go on and on until Gozaburo had had his fun and then Seto would lie still and sleep, dreamless sleep. Seto never understood why Gozaburo let him sleep afterwards. Maybe so he could watch him, maybe because he realized that Seto was nearly useless after he’d been taken—too pained and distraught to go back to lectures or studying. Maybe he was just merciful… 

But not too merciful. Seto had woken up more than once with his stepfather inside of him, pinning him down and smirking when Seto would fight to get free. Laughing in the face of his victim because each time he would make Seto scream or cry, it gave him that much more pride.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey couldn’t say for sure what woke him, but it was still dark in the room. Kaiba was curled up close to him, and that was when Joey realized what woke him was the sound of his companion sniffing—sniffling… _Crying!?_

It took everything in his power not to sit straight up in the bed in shock. Seto Kaiba was lying next to him _crying._ There was nothing hysterical about it, nothing dramatic or loud. The only indication that anything was amiss were the sounds of Kaiba sniffing back the tears

Joey didn’t know what to do. Anyone else—any other friend—he would’ve asked what was wrong and offered support. But this was Kaiba. He was so reserved and introverted. He didn’t like to show any emotion let alone break down and cry in front of another person. Joey doubted Kaiba would appreciate him asking questions…but it just felt wrong to just ignore what was happening.

Rather than prying, Joey just squirmed a little closer, pretending that he was still asleep and making his movements groggy and lethargic. He moved so Kaiba’s head was closer to his shoulder, but it still shocked him when Kaiba accepted the invitation and rested his head against Joey’s chest. 

Kaiba made no noises after that. He just laid still, cuddled close. It shocked Joey so much, and he still didn’t know how to react. He guessed he was doing alright—Kaiba didn’t push him away or get angry. 

However, as soon as Kaiba’s body had relaxed again, the alarm on the nightstand began blaring. Within seconds, Kaiba was up and out of bed, showering in the bathroom and then gone for work. He didn’t even speak a word on his way out.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey sat on the roof again for lunch the next day with his friends. After Kaiba had left for work, Joey had been unable to go back to sleep and he was left exhausted. He leaned back against the brick wall and stared out past the wire fence at the tops of the buildings across the way. Téa and Tristan were arguing over something trivial while Yugi laughed at them in good humor. Joey couldn’t help but wonder how they would react if they’d seen what he had—if they knew what he did about Kaiba.

Whenever Joey had problems, his friends were always able to help him out. When all of them came together, there was nothing they couldn’t solve. It was just too bad he couldn’t ask for their advice about what to do to help his boyfriend… Kaiba wasn’t an emotional person. To show any bit of vulnerability was to show weakness—to fail. Joey didn’t know if he was supposed to try to offer support or act like nothing had happened.

Kaiba would probably die of humiliation if he knew Joey had heard him, but Joey didn’t think their relationship would ever go anywhere if Kaiba didn’t start facing his dark past. He couldn’t even stand to have Joey try to touch him. Joey understood why, but he just didn’t know how to help Kaiba move past it. 

“Hey, man, you’re being too quiet. What’s wrong with you?” Tristan asked. When Joey didn’t answer right away, Tristan began tossing flecks of rice at him until finally Joey grunted at him. “Did your boyfriend keep you up all night or somethin’?” Tristan asked, laughing.

Joey glared at him darkly and when Yugi caught the look he hummed apprehensively. 

“Be careful, Tristan,” Yugi murmured. “You know how bad it would be if the media found out about them.”

“I didn’t say his name,” Tristan said matter-of-factly. “I just asked Joey if Kaiba let him sleep.”

“Knock it off, Tristan,” Joey muttered. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Did something happen?” Téa asked. “You seem really upset.”

“Eh, I can’t talk about it,” Joey said with a sigh.

“Why not? Did he make you sign a nondisclosure contract or something?” Tristan asked.

“No… He’s upset about some _stuff_ and I don’t know how to help him,” Joey said. He wondered if there was a way to get their advice without actually divulging any of Kaiba’s secrets. He would never betray Kaiba’s trust that way…

“What stuff?” Téa asked. “Business stuff?”

“No… Personal stuff. Like, really personal stuff.”

“I don’t suppose you can give us any details, can you?” Tristan asked.

“I promised him I wouldn’t. I don’t want to turn my back on him.”

“Is it about his stepfather?” Yugi asked, that look of concern in his eyes that he got whenever anyone was in trouble. “We already know he had a rough childhood.”

“Yeah, you don’t even know the half of it,” Joey mumbled. “I can’t say anything, but…I know he’s unhappy and I just wish I knew how to help.”

“Have you gotten him to open up to you at all?” Téa asked.

“A little bit. It’s hard… I don’t want him to lash out at me,” Joey said. “And I don’t want to make him upset.”

“It seems really complicated,” Yugi said. “I won’t ask for the details, but I wish I knew more so I could help.”

“I promised him I wouldn’t say anything,” Joey mumbled. “It’s not… You guys just gotta understand that it’s not just some business things or some matter of pride. It’s a real… _tragedy._ ”

“If it’s something in his past, he’s going to have to accept it and move on,” Téa said.

“Yeah, but how do I help with that? I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t want to act like I don’t see what’s happening, but I don’t want him to get mad at me either.”

“I don’t think he would get mad at you, Joey,” Yugi said. “He’s opened up his home to you, he wants you around. He might not know how to ask for help, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it. If he wanted you out of his personal business he never would’ve let you into it.”

“It’s not that simple, Yug,” Joey mumbled, leaning back and closing his eyes. He just wished they could understand. Kaiba wasn’t struggling to move past the death of his parents or sort through the emotional strain of trying to raise a pre-teen on his own… He was trying to get into an intimate relationship when it was _obvious_ that he was traumatized by what his stepfather had done. Those weren’t wounds that just disappeared with a few nice words. Joey didn’t know how to fix a trust issue that was so deeply engrained. 

It was even harder since he had no idea how to act in a same sex relationship. With girls he’d just done all the easy stuff—take them to movies, buy them some food, travel all the bases and kiss them goodnight. He couldn’t do that with Kaiba. Kaiba didn’t want dates or movies. Joey didn’t know if Kaiba even wanted sex. 

“Have you tried just talking to him?” Téa asked. 

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not going to be _easy,_ Joey,” Téa said, narrowing her eyes. “If it’s so personal, he probably hasn’t opened up to anyone about it. He doesn’t know how.”

“Yeah, and I don’t know what to say to him,” Joey mumbled. 

“Just ask him if he wants to talk about it and when he says no tell him he has no choice,” Tristan said. 

“Tristan, I’m not gonna do that!” Joey yelled. “You guys just don’t get it. I can’t _force_ him to talk about this! That wouldn’t help—that’d just make it worse.”

“You can’t force him; you’re right,” Yugi said. “But you can approach him about it. You probably know his moods better than we do. Just try to find a time when he’s more likely to answer and ask if he wants to talk about it.”

“He’ll just say no,” Joey mumbled. “He gets defensive. Eh, I probably haven’t been around long enough for him to trust me yet…”

“You’re living with him. He trusts you,” Tristan mumbled. 

“Not with this,” Joey said. 

“Not with _what,_ Wheeler?”

Joey stiffened and sat up perfectly straight. He knew that angry, cold voice anywhere.

“K-Kaiba?” Joey said, turning around slowly to look at the doorway. 

“Hey, Kaiba,” Yugi said, as friendly and chipper as ever—as if he hadn’t just been involved in gossip that would’ve made the editors-in-chief of all the tabloids drool. 

“What are you doing up here? I thought you worked during lunch,” Joey said, getting up quickly and standing before Kaiba. He looked so angry. Joey didn’t know how long he’d been standing there listening, but Kaiba looked like he already came to his own conclusions. 

“I do,” Kaiba said. 

“Oh, drop the act, Kaiba,” Tristan said. “We already know about you.”

“Is that a fact?” Kaiba asked, staring Joey down as he said it. 

“No,” Joey said, shaking his head. “They just know we’re together—that’s it; I swear,” Joey whispered so Tristan couldn’t hear. It didn’t take an expert to see Tristan didn’t approve of the relationship in the slightest. 

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.” 

“Kaiba,” Joey whispered, trying to sound as genuine as he could. “I promised you I wouldn’t tell them.”

“Shut up,” Kaiba said, his voice as cold as his eyes. “I’ll deal with you after work.” With that, Kaiba disappeared back down the stairs from the roof and Joey fought with the decision of whether or not to chase after him.

“What was he doing up here?” Tristan mumbled.

“It’s obvious he came here to see Joey. Why did you have to be such a jerk?” Téa asked, slapping Tristan on the back of the head. “Joey, you know if you don’t follow him his mood is just going to get worse.”

Joey didn’t wait to be told twice. He sprinted down the steps after Kaiba, barely catching him before he left the stairwell and entered the third floor. 

“Kaiba, please wait a second!” Joey said, grabbing Kaiba by the shoulder. “I really didn’t say anything to them. I… I told them you were upset and that I didn’t know how to help. That was all. I just wanted advice on how to…to talk to you without making it worse.”

“Gossiping with your little friends made it worse,” Kaiba said, still sounding bitter. His voice was a bit different though in another way, but Joey couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“It wasn’t gossip! Look, I don’t think we should talk about this here… Just promise you won’t stay at work all night because I really just want to talk about this.”

“I have to finish looking over my contract,” Kaiba said. His voice seemed a little…hoarse. That was how Joey would describe it. It was more hoarse than usual. 

“I don’t want you to be mad at me all night,” Joey said. “I _swear_ I didn’t tell them anything about you. I wouldn’t _do_ that. I… I don’t wanna hurt you, Rich Boy.”

“I’ll be home by nine,” Kaiba said. He tried to open the door to the third floor, but Joey grabbed his hand to stop him. “What? Go back to your little friends.” Kaiba sniffed slightly and then swallowed hard.

“I want to go with you,” Joey mumbled, biting his lower lip. Kaiba seemed like he was getting upset…choked up even.

“No. We talked about this last night. It’s not time for the press to find out about—about this.” As soon as he finished speaking, Kaiba buried his nose in his elbow and sneezed.

“You…you have a cold!” Joey said, everything clicking into place. His slightly altered voice…the _sniffling_ the night before. Kaiba hadn’t been crying, he’d been sick.

“I haven’t slept well in weeks and I’ve been slaving over that stupid contract. It was only a matter of time,” Kaiba muttered. “Now go back to your friends. I have work to do.”

“Don’t!” Joey called, grabbing Kaiba’s arm again as he tried to leave the stairwell. 

“Stop it.”

“Kaiba, would you just listen to me for a second!?”  
“Why?”

“If you came all the way up here to talk to me, you had to have something you wanted to say,” Joey said softly. “I really didn’t say anything to them about…all that.”

“Spare me,” Kaiba said. “I know how your little circle of friends works. What one of you knows, all of you know.”

“Maybe before, but not now,” Joey said. “I made _you_ a promise and I’m not gonna break it.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because if you don’t trust me then there’s no reason for me to stick around,” Joey said, feeling hurt and frustrated. “If you don’t trust me at all, then I may as well pack my bags and move back into my dad’s house.”

Immediately, Joey wished he could take the words back. He had a feeling that Kaiba would react badly, that he would get angry and say he didn’t trust Joey, that he’d _never_ trust him, and that he _should_ leave.

But Kaiba surprised him.

“Fine. Whatever. I came up here to tell you I was leaving early. I don’t feel well and I have a lot of work to do at Kaiba Corp. I’ll be home early.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Joey asked, knowing that Kaiba wouldn’t want his help with anything. 

He’d probably just say something cold like, “Stay out of my way.”

“I can take care of myself, Wheeler. I always have.”

“Yeah, but what’s the point of havin’ me around if I can’t take care of you when you’re sick.”

“Children need taken care of,” Kaiba said, his eyes looking more humored than cold. “I have everything I need.”

“You never lighten up for a minute, do you?” Joey muttered, rolling his eyes. “Go on—get out of here. I’m gonna go finish my lunch.”

Slightly irritated by Kaiba’s unrelenting attitude, Joey turned to go back upstairs, but was stopped when Kaiba grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him backward. Joey was spun around to face Kaiba once again and then the brunette had him backed into the wall of the stairwell, kissing him hard on the mouth.

“You’re gonna give me your cold!” Joey yelled, shoving Kaiba away. The CEO laughed at him, a quiet, cocky laugh. “If I get sick, I’m gonna give you a piece of my mind, rich boy!”

Kaiba said nothing to him, just turned away and left Joey behind in the stairwell. Joey grumbled to himself and then went back up the stairs.

“That didn’t take very long,” Téa said. “Did everything go alright?”

“Yeah,” Joey muttered, returning to the same place he’d been sitting before. “He’s going home.”

“Why? He’s really that mad?” Tristan asked.

“He’s sick,” Joey said, hoping that wasn’t a detail Kaiba would get mad that they were informed about. “So he’s just going to go work in the office.”

“Because that makes sense,” Tristan said sarcastically. 

“He’s got some contract he’s working out with Pegasus,” Joey said. “He probably wants to get it done while he still has the energy today so he can come home and go to sleep…or whatever he does when he’s sick.”

“Hopefully he’s not an even bigger jerk when he’s sick,” Tristan said.

“He’s not a jerk,” Joey muttered. “He’s just tired all the time.”

“Which makes him act like a jerk,” Tristan argued.

“You don’t know him,” Joey said quietly. He wished Tristan would just be more accepting. He and Kaiba were together now and Joey didn’t want to hear him talked about in such a negative way. He wished Tristan understood what had happened to Kaiba, what he’d been forced to endure in order to provide a good home for himself and his brother, so that maybe he’d be a little more respectful.


	18. Crossing Lines

Seto gave up after trying for over three hours to look over his contract. His eyes kept going in and out of focus and the bright, white paper made him have to squint to keep his eyes from burning. (And when they weren’t burning, they were watering from the irritation of his cold.) He had to keep pausing from his readings to sniff and wipe his nose until his skin was raw and chapped. Even then, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t concentrate and had to give up. 

He told his secretary that he was leaving and to cancel his appointments. Sleep was no longer an option, it was a necessity, and as soon as he was in the back of his limo he stretched himself across the backseat and closed his eyes. It seemed that as soon as his eyes slipped closed, there was a sharp knock on the window as his chauffer informed him they had arrived at the mansion. 

Seto made a point to keep an expression of irritation fixed on his face as he got out of the limo and entered his home. To show he was sick was the same as showing weakness, and Seto refused to let his guard down in front of anyone.

Except maybe Mokuba. 

“Where’s Wheeler?” Seto asked. He passed the main living room on his route to his bedroom. Mokuba was watching some sort of television program while scrolling through a document on his laptop. Usually his brother and Joey were together in the afternoons—eating or watching TV. 

“Hey,” Mokuba called, turning away from his computer. “I guess you’re not feeling any better, huh?” 

“Where’s Joey?” Seto asked again. He didn’t want to focus on his alternately stuffy and runny nose or watery eyes. Mokuba looked at him with a displeased expression—the sort of look a cat gives a person who has petted it for a minute too long. 

“You look terrible,” Mokuba said. Seto didn’t like how he dodged the question. It made him feel like something was wrong. 

“Gee, thanks.”

Mokuba sighed and looked back to his laptop. “You should get some rest. You know you’ll get worse if you don’t.”

“Where is Joey?” Seto asked again.

“Why are you so worried about Joey all of a sudden?”

Seto didn’t respond. He doubted it would make much sense to his brother if he told him sleeping without having a dog at his feet was becoming impossible. It wasn’t that he was dependent on the mutt’s presence, but sleep came easier with a warm body to lie next to.

“He isn’t here, is he?” Seto asked.

Mokuba took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “He…went to see his father.”

“What?”

“He wanted to go see his dad,” Mokuba said. “He asked me not to say anything, but I know you’re not going to let this go.”

“Why would he go there?” Seto snapped. Of course the stupid dog would pick the one day Seto was completely drained and exhausted to put himself in danger again.

“It’s his dad, Seto. He wanted to make sure he’s doing okay.”

“He has a maid—what more could the old fool want?” Seto asked, growling as he turned away.

“Where are you going?” Mokuba asked, setting his laptop aside and jumping up from the couch as Seto walked away.

“To get Wheeler before he gets himself killed,” Seto grumbled.

“You’re sick!” Mokuba argued. “Seto, you can’t even walk straight. You need to go lay down. If Joey needs you, he’ll call.”

“He can’t call if he’s dead,” Seto snapped. On a day when his mind wasn’t scattered and hazy, Seto probably wouldn’t have let himself react so strongly. Joey could take care of himself. He _knew_ Joey wouldn’t let his father actually kill him. But all Seto could think was that his pet had run away from home and he was tired and couldn’t sleep until his pup was in the bed beside him. He didn’t care how obsessed it made him sound. He was tired, he was sick, and he couldn’t sleep without Joey.

It took everything in his power to prevent himself from realizing how pathetic that made him. 

Seto called for his car again and told his chauffer where to drive. In the backseat, Seto forced himself to stay awake, fuelled mainly by annoyance and anger. Of _course_ Joey would try to sneak off the one day he felt Seto would be too sick to follow. Of _course_ he’d put himself in danger when Seto couldn’t keep him safe…

When the limo pulled up outside of Joey’s deteriorating house, Seto could already hear the yelling. He didn’t wait for the chauffer to open the door, he threw it open himself and got quickly to his feet. His head was spinning, but he fought it as he stalked into the house, trying to work up his strength so he wouldn’t get overpowered by a man in a drunken rage. He could already imagine the tabloids articles that would arise if he let himself get beaten down by Joey Wheeler’s bum of a father.

The opening of the door was masked by the sound of a body being slammed into a wall. The sharp cry of pain that followed indicated that Joey was on the receiving end and Seto growled. His fury only mounted when he heard the drunken father yelling out obscenities at his son who was still whimpering through his pain.

Seto stepped through the living room that, although tidied by the made, still reeked of booze and cigarettes. The noise from the fight came from the kitchen, and Seto did his best to remain unseen as he neared the doorway. He wanted to get a better assessment of the situation before diving in. 

He _wanted_ to get a better look before reacting, but when Seto’s eyes landed on spot after spot of blood on the kitchen counter and floor, keeping his composure was an afterthought. 

Joey was on the ground clutching his mouth and nose, blood running between his fingers. His father loomed over him, brandishing an already broken beer bottle. The little shards of glass near Joey’s hips on the floor implied that he’d busted the glass over Joey’s head—or worse, his mouth. 

Why had he thought to come back to this place? 

Seto lunged for the man, grabbing the hand holding the bottle and knocking it away before he could bring it down on Joey’s head. Fortunately, the man was drunk and it was easy for Seto—even with his strength impaired—to make the man unsteady. Seto shoved him against the kitchen counter, not feeling any satisfaction when Joey’s father grunted and collapsed onto the blood-smeared floor. Seto punched him twice and kicked him firmly in the chest for good measure before turning back to Joey who still hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor. Unlike the last time, Joey didn’t come to his father’s aid. He was sitting there, shaking and going into shock. 

“Come here,” Seto said, grabbing Joey by the arm and pulling. When that didn’t work, he leaned down and pulled Joey up by the shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Seto escorted Joey to the limo and helped him into the backseat, ignoring the looks that the neighbors were giving him. They were all staring in awe at the limo and the presence of the “famous” Seto Kaiba—not paying any attention at all to the rips in Joey’s uniform or the blood on his sleeves and hands.

In the car, Joey finally broke out of his stupor. When the vehicle started moving, Joey met Seto’s gaze. He looked frightened and ashamed… It was a look Seto had worn before and it made him sick to see Joey that way. 

“Let me see,” Seto said, trying his best to sound gentle. It was hard to force a nurturing tone. He’d only ever cared for Mokuba, and even then his compassion was hard to show. Seto grasped Joey’s hand and pulled it slowly away, trying not to cringe. He expected carnage, a completely sliced lip or possibly missing teeth. It wasn’t so bad though. His lip was cut, but gentle touches proved that it wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. 

When they got to the mansion, Seto would have a doctor look over Joey anyway. He wasn’t about to let the cuts on Joey’s face and scalp get infected and scar. 

“Did he chip your teeth?” Seto asked, not going to degrade the boy by checking him like some sort of animal. Joey looked away and tilted his chin, running his tongue across his cheek to check them. He shook his head and breathed though a wave of pain.

“I’m fine,” Joey said, blinking rapidly. He looked like he was going to cry and Seto couldn’t stand seeing him in pain. If it weren’t for his stupid headache and lightheadedness, Seto would’ve gotten out of the limo and gone back to that house. He would kill that man for kicking his dog and then pay his way out of the jail time. “What were you doing there?” Joey asked, hissing in pain as he shifted in his seat. He was trying to act tough, but the pain that showed on his face made him nothing more than pitiful. 

“You weren’t at home,” Seto said. “I had to come find you.” He knew trying to scold Joey for being foolish enough to trust his father would only make things worse. With Joey’s attitude, he would probably have tried to jump out of the moving vehicle if he thought Seto would dare to judge him. Even though jeering comments were Seto’s go-to response for almost every situation, he knew when they wouldn’t work in his favor. If he upset Joey now, he would never be able to get to sleep… 

“I told Mokuba not to say anything,” Joey muttered.

“You should know by now that Mokuba can’t keep a secret from me.”

“But you can keep secrets from him?” Joey asked, flashing Seto a dark look. 

“If I keep something from Mokuba it’s for his own protection. You have a sister—”

_“Leave her out of this,”_ Joey growled. 

“Do you tell her what your father does?”

“No, I don’t tell Serenity what my father does!” Joey yelled, tears finally welling in his eyes. “What could she do!? It would just hurt her! Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

Seto sighed and leaned back against his seat. It didn’t bother him that Joey lashed out. He needed to vent and taking anger wasn’t exactly something Seto was unused to. Employees turned on him, reporters lashed out at him, angry customers insulted him—having Joey throw harsh words had been so common in the past anyway and it almost felt natural. What wasn’t natural was holding back the sharp responses that came to Seto’s mind out of habit. 

“My head hurts,” Joey whimpered, rubbing at his scalp and making more red blood stain his hair. 

“I have doctors on call to help you,” Seto said, hoping it didn’t sound too arrogant. 

“He… He just kept hitting me until the bottle broke,” Joey said, still fighting off the tears. “He’s never done that before.”

“What set him off?” Seto asked, keeping Joey talking so he could get it all out before it ate him alive. Seto knew what it was like to be hurt and made to keep silent about it. Those wounds festered and bled at random… He didn’t want Joey to end up like him.

“He took one look at me and started yelling. I tried to leave, but he grabbed me and then kept punching me. He wouldn’t _stop._ ”

The limo pulled up outside of the mansion and Seto helped Joey out of the car. When they stepped into the house, Mokuba was already by the door waiting. 

“What happened?” Mokuba asked, looking Joey over and showing all of the concern and compassion that Seto couldn’t express. 

“Call for our doctor,” Seto said dismissively, hoping Mokuba would understand that meddling was just going to upset Joey more. “We’ll be in Joey’s room when they get here. I’m going to clean him up.”

“I can take care of myself,” Joey said, pulling away from Seto and making his way to the stairs. He didn’t walk with a limp, but his steps were wobbly as if he were disoriented. 

“That’s my line, Wheeler,” Seto said, following closely after him. “I guess this is where I’m supposed to say ‘what’s the point of having me around if I can’t look after you when you get hurt’?”

“Just shut up! I’m not in the mood,” Joey muttered, tripping on the final step but catching himself before he fell. 

“Joey?”

“Leave me alone! I can clean _myself_ up.”

When Joey reached his guest room on the upper floor, he slammed the door in Seto’s face and shouted in mixed pain and rage once he was alone. Seto stood there feeling yet again exhausted and confused. He didn’t know how to help someone who didn’t want it… He didn’t know how to help a person so much like himself.

( ) ( ) ( )

When the doctor came, Kaiba had been nowhere to be seen. Joey’s wounds were disinfected and covered with bandages, making him feel something like a mummy with a strip of gauze wrapped around his head. And it was ridiculous to have a gauze sheet taped to his upper lip. 

He’d also learned that his wrist had been sprained when he tried to hold his father off, so the doctor had placed it in a splint and wrapped it. A maid brought a bag of ice and made a real show of fawning over Joey’s injuries even though her coworkers had really been nothing but stuffy toward him since he moved in—as if he weren’t worthy of their service since he wasn’t rich like their boss. 

After he’d been tended to, the maid brought him a dinner he could eat at the desk in his room and then came to collect the plates an hour later. 

“Mr. Kaiba wants to know if he could stop by your room,” the maid said. 

“He actually bothered to ask permission?” Joey asked, rolling his eyes. He had been tense all evening, waiting for Kaiba to come in and make fun of him—tell him how stupid he was for trusting his dad and putting himself in that position like an idiot…

“I think Mr. Kaiba is very worried about you,” the maid said. “He’s just been sitting at his desk since he got home. I don’t think he feels very well, but he won’t get any rest until he sees you.”

“So rich boy’s tryin’ to guilt me now?” Joey mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” The maid looked at him and tilted her head, pretending she didn’t understand when her eyes showed pure annoyance. 

“He’s going to make a big deal about me wanting to be alone and then he’ll blame me when his cold gets worse.”

“I think Mr. Kaiba is worried about you,” the maid repeated. “As soon as he learned you weren’t home he went to find you, even though he’s so unwell.” 

“Don’t try to make me feel bad. I just don’t want to see anybody right now. I look stupid with this thing on my head.”

The maid stared at him, looking disappointed. 

“Mr. Kaiba isn’t going to sleep if he doesn’t get to see you.”

“That’s his own fault,” Joey said.

Eventually, the maid gave up and left. Just as Joey started to feel bad about cutting Kaiba out, said rich boy stormed into his room.

“I said I wanted left alone!” Joey yelled, tearing the bandage off his head before he could begin to feel any more foolish. 

“Relax,” Kaiba said. There were dark circles under his eyes that betrayed how exhausted he was, making him look almost like the ghoul-imposter they had encountered at Duelist Kingdom. “I came to check up on you.”

“I don’t want checked up on. I want left alone.”

“Alright,” Kaiba said, sighing. He turned to leave and Joey felt a pang of remorse hit him. If not for Kaiba, his dad would’ve probably beaten him unconscious…or worse.

“Wait,” Joey said just as Kaiba was about to leave. “You don’t have to go…” He felt defeated when Kaiba stopped and turned to face him. “It just makes me mad that…that you keep seein’ me like that. I don’t want you to think I can’t take care of myself.”

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Kaiba said. “And I know you don’t stick up for yourself whenever your father is involved. You’re too loyal to him. He’s your family and I understand that, but if you won’t protect you then I will.”

“I don’t want you to beat up my dad,” Joey said. 

“I’m not going to let him hurt you and get away with it. I care about you. Seeing him hurt you…” Kaiba paused and shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“I get that, but you can’t just beat up my dad. How would you feel if I came in to see Mokuba beating you up and I attacked him?”

“That’s different,” Kaiba said, rolling his eyes. “Mokuba would never—”

“I don’t care! You love your brother and I love my dad.”

“Your father doesn’t deserve you,” Kaiba said bitterly. He laid back on the bed and closed his eyes before draping his arm over his face. “I don’t want you to go back there without me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Joey said. 

“Come lay down,” Kaiba said, sniffing from his cold. 

“Did you not hear me? I said don’t tell me what to do,” Joey muttered. 

“Just lay down,” Kaiba said, sounding more irritated. 

“I don’t—” Joey was cut off when Kaiba sat up quickly and grabbed him, forcing him to fall back onto the bed. 

“All I want is to sleep.”

“So go to your own room and sleep!” Joey yelled, more surprised than angry.

“I can’t,” Kaiba grumbled, forcing Joey to lie down beside him. 

“Why? Because you need someone to give your cold to?” Joey growled, giving up on squirming away when the pain from his injuries flared up. 

“I can’t sleep,” Kaiba said, his voice muffled against Joey’s shoulder. 

“What?”

“I can’t sleep. It’s cold without you.”

Joey stopped grumbling and looked over at Kaiba who was already on the edge of sleep—although struggling to breathe through his cold. It was the little things like that which kept Joey from really getting mad and storming out. Kaiba didn’t show a lot of emotion or affection toward anyone but Mokuba. To have Kaiba open up to him about his own abuse was a start, but to have him admit that he was actually becoming dependent on Joey, admit that he couldn’t sleep without Joey at his side, that was incredible. It was touching. 

It proved that Kaiba was human underneath all of his layers of ice and snow. 

So instead of fighting it, Joey nestled down into Kaiba’s side, making sure to keep his bandaged lip from rubbing against his partner. He wrapped an arm around Kaiba’s waist, making the other boy twitch in his sleep.

“Kaiba?” Joey mumbled, quiet enough that the brunette could ignore him if he chose. 

“What?” Kaiba asked groggily. 

“Do you…” No, Joey thought. It was too soon to ask him that. 

“What?—Do I what?” Kaiba asked.

“It’s nothin’,” Joey said. 

Kaiba made a low, sleepy groan and scooted up on the bed. He tilted Joey’s chin upward with his fingers and leaned down to press a soft kiss on the side of Joey’s mouth, careful to avoid the cut. When Joey pulled back, Kaiba just hummed softly and kissed with a little more passion. 

Joey whimpered and Kaiba finally let him go after kissing him once more on the cheek and then again on his neck.

“Now let me sleep,” Kaiba muttered, sniffing and then sighing with annoyance as his cold fought him. Joey curled up next to him but couldn’t even think of sleeping. 

Why had Kaiba kissed him like that? Was it really possible that he’d known what Joey was going to ask? Was the kiss an answer—a yes? Or was it simply done to shut Joey up?

When Kaiba was finally asleep, Joey was able to worm away to sit on the edge of the bed. He stared blankly at the wall for what felt like hours, his mind racing. He had a horrible headache—probably from being struck with a glass bottle until it broke—and it irked him that Kaiba could just lie there and sleep. He knew Kaiba was exhausted and not feeling well, but it wasn’t fair… 

Kaiba shouldn’t be able to just kiss him like that—to put feeling into an awkward, gentle kiss—and then go to sleep like it meant nothing. Joey couldn’t decide if he felt that Kaiba was “dating” him because he actually liked him or if it was because he pitied him and felt the need to protect him from his father because no one had been there for him in the past?

It had started to turn dark before Joey was interrupted. There was a quiet knock on the door before it cracked open. Joey turned around to look and spotted Mokuba standing there, looking slightly confused. Joey looked down at the bed and saw that, in his sleep, Kaiba had crawled closer toward him—seeking the closeness and the body heat.

“The cooks left some dinner for you and Seto…Do you want them to bring up a plate?”

“Um…sure,” Joey said, feeling that if he left the room Kaiba would wake up and come find him—and probably complain about being woken up. 

“Is he feeling any better?” Mokuba asked, looking at his brother. “He doesn’t usually come home early even if he is sick.”

“He’s just tired,” Joey said.

Mokuba hesitated and then disappeared to get the maid to bring up Joey’s dinner. As soon as the food was brought to him, Joey moved over to Kaiba’s desk to eat. Mokuba didn’t stick around to talk, but that was fine. Joey didn’t feel up to conversation.

His mind was stuck in a terrible cycle of anger, humiliation, confusion, and a tad bit of something else. He felt affection for Kaiba and he was glad that Kaiba had been there to save him, but at the same time he wished the rich boy would just butt out. It was humiliating to be a grown man and to have to have someone else come save him from his own father. Thus the cycle just went on and on. He was grateful, he was embarrassed, he was angry, he was thankful…

When his food was gone, Joey turned to look at Kaiba who was sleeping on his stomach, his face turned to the side yet still buried in the pillow. He didn’t look particularly _vulnerable_ in his sleep, but he was certainly less intimidating. 

Until his eyes slid open. 

Joey cringed when, all of a sudden, he was being stared down by those cold, blue yes.

“Can I…help you with somethin’, rich boy?” Joey asked when Kaiba just kept staring. He almost wondered if Kaiba was still asleep, but then he blinked and furrowed his brow.

“Why did you get up?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Come back to bed.”

“No. I’m not tired.” Joey turned to look down at his empty plate. He didn’t feel like sleeping. He wanted to think…he wanted to move around. Maybe go for a walk. 

“Wheeler,” Kaiba said, his voice stern as if he had a right to command Joey around just because he’d saved him.

“Kaiba,” Joey mimicked, imitating Kaiba’s tone.

“Joey,” Kaiba said, almost sounding playful—or as playful as an uptight guy like Kaiba could sound.

Joey hesitated for a moment, but found that he couldn’t rise to the occasion. It felt wrong to call Kaiba anything other than, well, _Kaiba._ Calling him by his first name…it just felt _wrong._

“Kaiba,” Joey said, trying to mock Kaiba’s tone but failing to have half as much energy. 

“Come back to bed,” Kaiba repeated.

This time, Joey sighed and gave in. He laid down next to the brunette and sighed heavily. Kaiba just kept staring at him, but this time Joey just gave the same look back—staring straight into those frigid eyes that people either loved or feared. Kaiba’s eyes were bleary though, red-rimmed and watery from his cold. Perhaps it was because the illness made Kaiba look more human—less mechanical, less perfect—but Joey found himself to be comforted.

In their whole history together, Kaiba had only served to bully Joey for being inexperienced, being weaker, being poorer. Now, all of that had stopped almost instantly and instead of critical, Kaiba had become affectionate—protective. It was so bizarre, and yet Joey found himself adjusting.

Kaiba wasn’t making fun of him or mocking him for being unable to protect himself against his father. He’d just come silently to the rescue, and all he seemed to want in return was quiet compassion as he attempted to sleep off his cold. 

To be honest, Kaiba was almost pitiful. Not just because he was sick, but because he was uncomfortable and didn’t seem to know what to ask for or how to ask. All he could do was lie there and demand that Joey lie next to him. He may have boasted earlier that he could take care of himself, but it was slowly becoming obvious that deep down he didn’t want to have to console himself. Joey was here now as his partner and Kaiba seemed determined to make use of him in any way possible.

“Don’t go back to that house,” Kaiba said, maintaining the prolonged eye contact that Joey had started.

“Don’t tell me what to do, rich boy,” Joey said, looking away. He tried to roll over, but Kaiba grabbed him and made him lie on his side so they faced each other. 

“It’s not about you anymore,” Kaiba said, reaching out with his hand and touching Joey’s head, making him wince. When he pulled back his hand, there was blood on his fingertips and Joey flinched. “Seeing this…it pisses me off. You live with me now. I might not _own_ you, but you’re mine. And people don’t hurt what’s mine and walk away from it.”

“I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but please don’t kill my dad. With him dead and you in jail, I’m not gonna have anywhere to go.”

“Then stay here. Don’t go back to that house.”

“Fine,” Joey muttered, looking away. It wasn’t as sincere as it should be, but he couldn’t promise that he would never see his father again. Even now, still bleeding and still woozy from the blows to the head, Joey couldn’t say he hated his father. He trusted him less than ever before, but if it weren’t for his father, Joey could’ve ended up like Kaiba—in an orphanage or on the streets.

Or worse.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment he’d just been lying next to Kaiba and he’d let his eyes close, then he felt the mattress shift and when he opened them it was dark and Kaiba was sitting up in the bed next to him—a dark silhouette among shadows.

“Hey,” Joey said, is voice raw with sleep. He tried to sit up, but Kaiba pushed down on his shoulder to keep him against the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Kaiba shushed him and leaned down to press a kiss on the corner of Joey’s mouth, his lip grazing against the cut on Joey’s bottom lip. Joey went to return the kiss, but stiffened when he felt the bed shift as Kaiba moved over him, one of his knees on each side of Joey’s hips. 

“What are you doing?” Joey asked, fear hitting him but only because of how sudden it all was. He still wasn’t used to being awake, and the medication for pain he’d taken earlier had worn off leaving him with a horrible headache. 

Instead of answering, Kaiba kissed Joey on the mouth again, then the cheek, down his jaw until he was nipping at Joey’s throat. One of Kaiba’s hands came to rest on base of Joey’s neck, holding him still, the other started tracing along the inside of Joey’s thigh.

Joey squirmed a little, but didn’t fight it. He was nervous that if he resisted too forcefully, Kaiba would just become more forceful like he had in the past when they’d been working together on the class project. Still, he didn’t know what was happening enough to be sure if he wanted to reciprocate—or if there was any reciprocating to be done. 

Kaiba’s signals had never made any sense. His kisses were always forceful and even when they led to something sexual, Kaiba never let Joey touch him back. 

When the fingers teasing Joey’s thighs finally reached their prize, Joey decided something needed to change. It didn’t matter if he was in the mood or not. Kaiba obviously was and nothing short of fists or tears would get him to stop. Joey didn’t feel like fighting and he wasn’t exactly against the idea of seeing where the sucking at his neck or the stroking through his jeans could get him enough to start forcing tears. 

“You couldn’t wait until I was awake, could you, rich boy?” Joey asked, giving Kaiba the go-ahead in his own way. He wanted to act casually, desperate to keep his mounting anxiety in check. In his head he was starting to create an image of how he wanted this to happen, but he was almost positive that Kaiba would have his way and no other. And maybe he deserved that. All Kaiba knew of sex was force and violence. Maybe he deserved a chance to call the shots and see that not every partner he could have was going to hurt him or shame him or make him feel less than human.

When Kaiba said nothing in response, Joey lifted his hands and slid them under the CEOs shirt, carefully smoothing his hands over the skin of Kaiba’s back. In turn, Kaiba started sucking at Joey’s neck harder, leaving the smallest of marks before moving to a different spot. Joey could feel Kaiba’s pulse—his heart pounding just as fast as Joey’s. 

He wondered if Kaiba’s mind was racing just as fast or if all thought had abandoned him by that point. All Joey could really think was the same thought he’d had before—this was happening. This was _really_ happening.

Joey had been with women before, but it had never been quite like this. He didn’t want to admit how nervous he was, not just for himself but for Kaiba as well. This wasn’t just another one night stand with a faceless girl he’d have to avoid in the hallways at school for a few weeks. This was Seto Kaiba. This was his housemate, his boyfriend. A victim who didn’t know what he was doing or how to do it right. 

He was scared. Joey was terrified. He was afraid Kaiba would hurt him—maybe on purpose, maybe on accident. Then he was afraid of what Kaiba would do when that happened. Would he just keep going? Would he panic and stop? Would he panic and stop and then go into a rage? Or depression? And what if Joey wasn’t the one who got hurt? What if something else went wrong, or what if Kaiba got all the way to the edge and then realized he couldn’t go through with it? 

The only thing Joey knew for sure was that he wasn’t willing to let Kaiba do what he’d done before. Kaiba needed the release more than Joey did, and Joey felt that without it, Kaiba was just going to become more high strung and pushy until he would have no escape besides violence. He understood that Kaiba still had the scars from what Gozaburo had done to him, but he needed to recover or there was a very real possibility that all his self-denial would just turn him into the same sort of monster as his stepfather. 

Joey let Kaiba strip him of his shirt, and put up very little protest when the brunette slid a hand down the front of his pants. Joey took a risk and slid his palms to Kaiba’s sides, then down to his hips. As soon as his fingertips dipped below the waistband of Kaiba’s work slacks, Kaiba stiffened.

“Stop it,” he said, his mouth still close to Joey’s throat.

“It’s okay,” Joey said, trying to sound consoling but not condescending. “It’s—It’ll be fine.” He didn’t know what to say to Kaiba. He doubted that any words would help, but he had a faint hope that maybe, if he could get Kaiba to let his guard down just enough for this, then Kaiba would get better. Then he’d heal and he’d be alright—maybe the nightmares would stop and the rage fits would stop…

“I said stop,” Kaiba repeated, moving to kiss Joey on the mouth.

Joey cringed as he made himself ignore the request. He kept his hands on Kaiba’s hips, just holding them and trying to show Kaiba that he didn’t mean any harm. 

After a few more moments of nipping at Joey’s throat and stroking him, Kaiba seemed to have forgotten the hands on him and Joey dared to slide them lower. He felt guilty, knowing that Kaiba had more than enough reasons to feel uncomfortable with the touch, but he just wanted Kaiba to move on—to move past the bad things.

When Kaiba finally made the move to undo Joey’s fly and expose him, Joey closed his eyes tightly and slid one of his hands forward. As Joey’s hand cupped him, Kaiba jerked backwards, hissing as if burned.

“I said—”

“Shh,” Joey said, moving with Kaiba when he leaned away. “It’s okay. Come on. You can trust me—just trust me.” Kaiba stayed rigid, one of his hands fixed on Joey’s wrist, preparing to pull it away. “It’s okay.”

He could feel the tension surging through Kaiba’s body. He was so obviously uncomfortable and no matter what Joey did, no matter how many kisses he pressed to his throat or how many soft words he whispered, Kaiba didn’t relax.

“We won’t get hurt,” Joey mumbled, knowing that if he put all of it on Kaiba, there was no way the brunette would stay. Kaiba wasn’t just worried about himself, and to be accused of that would just make him angry. Kaiba was afraid he’d hurt Joey, too. 

“I told you to stop it,” Kaiba said, forcing Joey’s hands out of his pants and pushing them aside. 

“Kaiba, I don’t want it to just be me,” Joey said. “Let me… I want to give something back to you.”

“That’s not—”

“You can trust me.” In the dark, Joey couldn’t really see Kaiba’s face, but he felt some of the tension leave his body. Joey leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Kaiba’s mouth. When Kaiba started kissing back, Joey opened his mouth and fell back against the mattress. He opened his legs a little wider so Kaiba could fit between them and wrapped his arms around the brunette’s shoulders, not willing to risk moving too quickly again. 

Kaiba wasted no time wrapping his hand around Joey’s length. He started stroking him until Joey had wormed his way out of his pants, but he froze when Joey started touching him in return. Whenever Kaiba would start to pull back, Joey would kiss him deeply in an attempt to distract him. It never really seemed to work, but Joey didn’t want to stop trying.

He had a feeling that if he could just get Kaiba past this point—if he could get him to let go of his fear and let the want and the need take over—then everything would be okay. Kaiba would stop being pushy and forceful, maybe even relax a little more in his daily life. It was doubtful getting in Kaiba’s pants would really make that much of an impact, but Joey hoped it would help even if it was just a little.

But nothing could change if Kaiba just kept resisting. Joey understood that Kaiba was scared—nervous, shy maybe—and haunted, but he’d never seen Kaiba as the type to let the past hold him back from anything. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Seto was losing control again. He felt it slipping faster and faster out of his hands, and even if Joey was trying to coax him to let go, Seto couldn’t bring himself to do it. There was too much going on in his mind—more than a punk like Joey would ever understand—and a few good kisses weren’t going to distract his thoughts from how uncomfortable it was to have someone else’s hands on his body. Joey didn’t realize how close he’d come to getting punched. It took every scrap and shred of self-control that Seto could muster to keep from instinctively bringing his fist down on Joey’s nose when the blonde dared to reach inside of his pants. 

He’d told Joey not to do it. He’d asked him to stop but Joey just kept pushing it. Seto still wasn’t sure how he’d kept himself from throwing a punch when everything in his body had been poised and ready. 

Now Joey’s hand was there again and Seto didn’t know what to think. He started to feel panicked and he couldn’t let that side of him show. Not here. Not now. 

So he gave in. All he had to do was shut his eyes and focus on giving in, blocking everything out—blocking out his thoughts, his memories, his life—and just giving in to what he knew came next.

He had skin lotion in the drawer of his nightstand, but no condoms. There was a chance that Joey had picked up some kind of disease somewhere, but they’d kissed when Joey’s lip had been cut and bleedings so if there were illnesses to be caught, Seto would already have them. Seto didn’t want it to show that he had no idea what he was doing, even if he’d learned by example all those years ago. He didn’t let himself hesitate. 

He couldn’t.

“Come on,” Joey moaned. He sounded lustful and needy, and he had his hands on Seto’s hips, stroking them and squeezing when Seto took too long to make a move. “If you don’t, I’m gonna find someone who will, Rich boy.”

Seto knew he couldn’t wait any longer—the more he hesitated, the weaker he looked. Soon that moaning would turn to pity, and if Joey muttered one thing about how the past was over, Seto would lose his mind. Even now, he still felt the rage—but this time he was going to channel it into something other than his company, other than work.

So he grabbed the bottle of lotion and worked more than a fair amount onto the fingers of his dominant hand. He gave Joey one last, deep kiss before working the first finger inside, then the second. When he managed to get Joey moaning, Seto added the third. And when Joey stopped whimpered, Seto sighed and prepared himself for what had to come next.

( ) ( ) ( )

Joey cried out when Kaiba finally pushed inside. The brunette immediately stopped moving, but didn’t say anything or even ask if Joey was alright. He understood, and waited until Joey finally stopped moaning in pain and shaking. It hurt, but it wasn’t horrible and Joey knew the pain would stop eventually—especially with Kaiba’s hand slowly pumping Joey’s erection to keep him distracted. 

After a moment, Kaiba was able to move and Joey felt that it didn’t hurt so bad—what had felt like getting stabbed just felt like a cut, then a pinch. He leaned up for a kiss, hoping for an bit of passion that might distract him from the lingering pain. 

Kaiba kissed him hard and thrust in all the way, inadvertently making him scream as the pinch grew back into a stabbing pain that shot all the way up his spine. Kaiba froze and let Joey adjust, whispering into his ear that he needed to relax—as if he really thought relaxing would be that easy. He kissed Joey neck and throat, and then kissed him deeply on the mouth, sucking his tongue until Joey stopped groaning in pain. 

Seconds later, Kaiba pulled out slightly—making Joey whimper—and then pushed back in slowly. At the same time Joey yelped in pain, Kaiba let out his first moan of pleasure. For a moment Joey was afraid that Kaiba would move again and more quickly now that he was finding enjoyment, but Kaiba stayed still, his arms shaking as he supported his weight, as if waiting for a cue. Joey hesitated before giving him one, trying hard to adjust to the pain. 

He couldn’t image Kaiba having gone through this as a _child_ with a full grown man on top of him. 

When Kaiba finally set up a rhythm, the pain was a little easier to get used to. Soon, the pain wasn’t really there at all except for a slow, dull burn. And then Kaiba struck something inside of him that made Joey’s back arch and his eyes go wide. He kept hitting it over and over, and then reached around to start stroking Joey’s cock until the pain was all but gone.

Joey finished first, feeling his cheeks flush an even darker shade of red as his seed spattered on the mattress. He groaned softly and let his face come to rest on the damp pillow, shaking with over-stimulation as Kaiba continued to move in and out of him. 

Kaiba’s fingers dug into Joey’s hips, making him meet the trusts even though Joey was too exhausted to move on his own. His movements became harsher and harsher, making Joey whimper—not exactly in protest but in discomfort—and clutch at the blankets. When Kaiba finally finished, pulling out seconds before his release, Joey collapsed down onto the bed, still shaking and more fatigued than ever. He groaned as he made himself roll over, wanting to keep Kaiba in check since he hadn’t moved to lie down or get up after finishing. He just stayed kneeling there, looking at Joey but not really seeing him.

“You gonna come down here, rich boy, or are you just gonna stare at me?” Joey said, trying to stay lighthearted even though he was starting to get a sinking feeling in his gut. It was dark in the room yet Kaiba’s posture still suggested that he was uncomfortable. “Kaiba?” Joey pressed, trying to keep a playful tone.

Kaiba leaned over him, moving to crawl over Joey’s body once again before leaning down and kissing him gently on the lips.

“I’ll be back.” 

Joey barely had the chance to reach for Kaiba’s hand to stop him before Kaiba was up and out of the bed, gone into the bathroom where Joey heard the shower start running. With a soft sigh, Joey sat up in the bed, trying to adjust to the new pain. He waited about fifteen minutes before crawling out of the bed and going into the bathroom. He made a point to cough upon entry of the bathroom, not wanting Kaiba to think he was sneaking up on him, and then stood a moment outside of the shower. 

He thought to ask if he could join Kaiba, but was almost certain the CEO would either say no or not answer him at all. Taking a deep breath, Joey let himself into the shower and wrapped his arms carefully around Kaiba’s shoulders, nuzzling the back of his neck despite the tension that seized his muscles. At any second, Kaiba could either turn and yell at him or lash out at him physically. It was obvious Kaiba was distressed, and whenever he felt any negative emotion he almost always translated it into rage. 

“What are you doing?” Kaiba asked. Joey was surprised at how collected his voice was. He barely spoke any louder than the stream of water coming from the spacious shower. 

“I missed you,” Joey said after toying with the question in his mind for a moment. He didn’t want to say he was worried about Kaiba—but he knew that would just make the other more defensive, more likely to mask his emotions than before. 

“I told you I would be back,” Kaiba said, grabbing a bottle of shampoo and then pulling away from Joey in order to wash his hair. While he washed his hair, Joey grabbed for the abandoned loofa lying on the other side of the shower’s floor as though Kaiba had tossed it once he was finished with it. He rinsed it under the shower stream and then grabbed the body wash to lather the loofa back up. 

They said nothing as they showered, and Joey made a point to slip out and dry off before Kaiba did. He felt that Kaiba still wanted to be alone, maybe needing time to process what happened, maybe just needing a minute to himself after spending so long a time with another person. 

Joey was back in the bed, redressed in his pajamas, a full thirty minutes before Kaiba. When the CEO came back into the room, he crawled onto the bed beside Joey and kissed him softly on the lips just as he had when he’d left to take his shower. He said nothing, and then lie down next to him and went to sleep.


End file.
